Trees and books

We went hunting for our Christmas tree yesterday. We're feeling our age as we tromp through the fields of the Christmas tree farm managing to find the biggest tree farthest from the car - and nowadays it's just the two of us dragging and carrying it back. Luckily the place we go to drills the standing hole in the bottom and then trusses it so we can get it home and in the stand before cutting the netting and standing back as it poofs out to fill the room.
This one is 10 feet tall. I love our trees. I always think they look like a charm bracelet, the sparklies dangling from the ends of the branches. Over the years I've hung found objects, spoons from my mom, pretty forks, glass or brass or silver cups, lids from dishes long broken or flea market finds, hand carved wooden birds and Santas and angels, the treetop angel(s) are construction paper cones my kids made in preschool when they were three years old. Over the years I gave each of them an ornament as we decorated Every year for my son a toy soldier and my daughter an angel. When they married they took their ornaments with them, but I kept the treetop angels.
Last year as our couple of days together was winding down, the babies in bed, we sat quietly together, I pulled from the tree 5 envelopes. In the envelopes was a piece of paper listing for each of the adults in my family the 10 reasons why I love them. Each one written personally. I started to read to Patient Husband first and as I read my daughter started to cry and my son-in-law asked if there was something they should know - was I sick? Was I going to die? No, I said. And then read my daughter's, then my son's, then my son-in-law's and then my daughter-in-law's. I don't know about them, but it made MY day.

We're enjoying the last two days of our Thanksgiving holiday weekend. One of the simple things I enjoy very much when I don't have to get up in the morning is to stay up late, late, reading. Last night I finished this book and wanted to pass along how much I enjoyed it. I learned, a little bit before I read it, that Christopher Robin Milne absolutely hated being Christopher Robin in the Pooh books. He was so intensely upset he was estranged from his parents for years and never reconciled before their deaths. It isn't about Christopher Robin Milne, but his situation was the catalyst for the idea of this book. With that in mind, this book was conceived and written and is a debut novel for this author. I absolutely loved it and would recommend it highly to anyone walking past. It's that good. I don't say that about a lot of books but when I find one like this I do kind of make a pest of myself.
Up next? Well, I bought a Kindle last week (!!!!) and have one book loaded, Saving CeeCee Hunnicutt by Beth Hoffman. I haven't read a single review that wasn't glowing. It isn't a long heavy book, but light, and at this time of year I need light! There are dozens on thebookshelf waiting for me and as I look at them I'm drawn to The Distant Hours by Kate Morgan, an author I enjoy very much. She wrote The House at Riverton and The Forgotten Garden, both good reads, but heavier. Then there's Fannie Flagg's new book, I Still Dream About You. I do love reading Fannie Flagg. I can hear her speaking voice and her books read like she's sitting across from me telling me a fantastic story. Last week I also finished Doc by Mary Doria Russell. Now SHE is an author to follow! Doc is about Doc Holliday and that shouldn't scare you away. It's a winner.
But tonight, while the Kindle recharges ( I guess the last time I used it I didn't turn it off!!!) I think I'll attack that floral scrappy quilt Elizabeth is waiting for.
Happy Thanksgiving!