Yay, here is our first real tree in all its glory! This past weekend was a non-stop holiday fest. We went to the most wonderful Christmas concert at Boston College, a holiday market at a local school, got our tree, and made a the most delicious cassoulet (minus the ick tomatoes, obviously).
All weekend, I kept saying to Peter how pretty and festive our house looked, and how fantastic it smelled. Inside, I kept thinking how grown-up it felt to have a real live tree. I wonder why this symbolizes adulthood to me?
On a somewhat related note, I keep dreaming that I wake up to find all the needles on the floor, and the branches totally bare. Are my tree dreams telling me I'm secretly afraid I'm failing at adulthood?!?! Deep, deep fraser fir thoughts. I might be a little too attached to my tannenbaum.