Merry Christmas everyone!
My fondest memory of this particular holiday stems from our yearly tree. You see, unlike most children we weren’t allowed to decorate the tree, ever. Yes, I said…”weren’t” as in were NOT allowed.
Upon strict instruction by my Mother, my brother and I were summoned to drag all the dusty boxes of decorations up from the dreaded haunted basement crawlspace but that was about it.
Oh! Until january 7th when it was clean up time. 
We were allowed to WATCH my Mom decorate the tree but HANDS OFF children!
You see my Mother is quite particular about her Christmas tree. It has to be total and utter perfection and it seriously comes out better than a tree in the window of Saks Fifth Ave.
It is breathtaking. 
She is even a pro at choosing the consummate bare shrub itself…….. shape, smell, width, and height.
Vicki places each ornament with intense precision all the while presenting itself as an interesting whimsicial jumble with little effort.
Every now and then she would put a few candy canes on the sapling. My little brother and I would occasionally steal one of the tasty treats from the very back in hopes she wouldn’t notice.
She would, without fail and she would scream her head off with that sharp British tongue,
“Who touched my bloody tree?!!!”
Sometimes we would even move ornaments around just to grind on her nerves. I kinda of wish I video taped her reaction.
From the moving angels at the very top, to the white glittery old fashioned sleds in the middle, to the hand painted Santa and village she personally created that lay on the white fur tree skirt, every single inch is flawless.
It was her project. We didn’t miss out a second on not decorating. In fact, it still wows me to this day to watch her fluent cleverness throw the last bits of shimmering fake snow precisely on particular branches.  I am always ever-impressed.
There are quite a few remnants of my childhood left hanging up there, a 1978 reindeer that looks like its been dragged all over the world for 32 years……a silly little girl mouse in a green gingham dress that makes no sense at all….and a pair of gold ballet slippers.
I only hope to give the gift of such a brilliant, flawless creation to my kids. One that they can be quite proud of and I may even let them place an ornament or two up there, as long as I am in charge of where they put it.