This is the way we communicate

Actual conversation

Josh: Are you coming outside?

Billi Jo: Why?

Josh: Cuz I thought I’d show you how to use the “new” snow blower.


Actual meaning of the conversation

Josh: I have something I want you to learn.

Billi Jo: Why?

Josh: Cuz you are now in charge of snow removal.

I guess after a six year maternity leave I should have expected this…bring on the snow!

Can anyone else relate?

When Modern Technology Messes with My Routine.

We have an automatic garage door opener and a remote that allows me to remain in the vehicle as I depart from the garage. Lazy. I know. But I do love this tool, because it feeds my desire to multitask (driving away while closing the garage door). However, there are certain periods throughout the year that this much appreciated task becomes a complete, and udder, chore. Times when I am forced to pull my vehicle out of the garage, put it into park, grab the remote, and stand in front of the garage door while it is closing to block the suns rays from interfering with the sensors. So much for multitasking! I suppose I could bring my coffee with me and take a few sips as I stand there to watch my shadow.

I’m Back.

After a much needed sabbatical, I have returned.

Thanks to all of those who “checked-in” while I was away.

I am not sure where to begin or what to say. But know that all is well and that:

Today marks the day that I will stop putting off until tomorrow!

Caption Challenge and the winner is…

“at least it’s not in my eyes”

Dillon I simply could not resist taking these photos of you. I just love the scrunched up faces that two-year-olds make when ‘smiling’ for a picture; the hair was merely an added bonus. I was at a loss as to how I should capture this memory, so I put out a Caption Challenge on my blog to get ideas. I clearly had to go with the one Grandma Wilson provided; it brought back so many memories of her telling me to “get that hair out of your eyes”.


Second installment of Caption Challenge...

Live Life

There is a woman and to blog is her desire

but too many things her attention now requires

Life is good and the things in it are grand

right now to enjoy it will be her new stand

A Tribute to the Grandparents in Our Lives

Grandparents touch our lives in lots of different ways

Guiding each of us through life’s magnificent maze
Supplying support, making many memories, and offering advice
So that we do not have to rely on the roll of the dice
Grandparents honed their knowledge over the course of their lives
We benefit by listening to their stories in order to grow wise
Understanding their experiences will give us sensitivity
So that we have awareness when we face adversity
Grandparents are necessary, unique and diverse
Each providing an impact us and our universe
I am taking this moment to say
I simply love you a little more each day

Billi Jo


Here are two scrapbook pages I created and actually completed before Grandparents Day.
Now if only I could get the cards in the mail...

Journaling:

Grandma has stories of the things that mommy did,

when mommy was little, she was sure a funny kid.
Grandma supports all the activities that we are in,

and is full of praise, even if we do not win.

Grandma has a bag filled with things for us to do

colors and scissors and of course way too much glue.

Grandma has a heart, that love has over spilled,

which means our hearts, with grandmas love, are completely over filled.

Happy Grandparents Day

Sunday, September 13, 2009

The Customary Sniff

I just completed the customary sniff. You-know-the-one-where you hold a wash cloth that could contain an unpleasant odor, between your forefinger and thumb, with the remaining three fingers fanned away as to not acquire the possible stench. You exhale, but only slightly, because the likelihood of inhaling an unwanted odor. You draw the suspected stench laden washcloth up to your nose, and sniff briefly, pulling the washcloth away immediately. Then wait for the overwhelming indication that the washcloth needed to be laundered, yesterday. Luckily for me, this ONE time, I actually avoided the toe curling nastiness that normally accompanies the customary sniff. So I ask, is there anyone else, out there, who chooses to stimulate their nose hair by performing this task?

Caption Challenge

I love to scrapbook and to make my own cards, some even call me “crafty”. If I had a little more confidence I would create hand made home decorations to hang around the house, that is if I were allowed to “poke holes in the walls,” but I digress. When scrap booking I normally have an idea in mind long before I begin a page, but every once in a while I come across a photo or two that I want to scrap, and can’t figure out what to do. So I am soliciting the advice of my faithful few (and possible a few “lurkers”) who I know are full of creativity; to help me come up with captions to some great photos. I get to be the judge and all decisions are final. There may not always be a winner, but if one is chosen, their idea will be scraped and posted here, and the winner will receive a box of handmade cards.

Here is the first installment of Caption Challenge…

Lovely Ladies

Excuses and challenges.

And I am really good at both.

I used to have the cute LITTLE blogger log in and password, and then I joined a running challenge in which I had to create a g-mail account (which for some reason automatically changed my blogger account). Now I have this long drawn out, semi complicated log in, that I only get right 50% of the time. Anyone willing to accept that as an accuse for not updating my blog regularly? Lame, I know, but hey it was a starting point, right? My new challenge is to write an update once a week in which I simply sit and write, completely unabridged. It should make for some interesting writing and quite possibly some frustrating reading, but it is something I need to do in order attack my perfectionism; an obstacle I so desire to tear down.

What could possibly make that noise?

We were camping, just sitting around the campfire talking to our fellow campers, when we began to hear this intense scraping noise. It’s not a noise you'd recognize, nor could you imagine what could possibly make it. And it keeps getting louder and louder, until it is right on top of us. I wasn’t quite sure where my kids were so I stood to make sure that none were in the path of this noise, only to see a grown man pulling a 40 quart sized wheeled cooler along the side of his bike. The source of the noise was finally identified and yet remained unimaginable, and continues to make me giggle even as I recall the event. I still can not imagine where he came from. Talk about “testing” a product; Coleman needs to hire that man.

Update Blog. Check.

Just wanted everyone to know that I am collecting some great stories to tell…one involving a gravel road, a cooler, a grown man and a peddle bike, and another one about a new scooter, a girl, and a rather large hill. Right now I am just happy to have my computer functioning virus free so that I can once again “creep” around on everyone's blogs.

Existing in real life, not in blogger land.

I have been thoroughly enjoying the effects of Global Warming (50-70 degrees days in July)…and thus have not had the opportunity to increase my carbon emissions by cranking the air conditioner, running my desk top computer, and updating the masses through my blog… please accept my apologize for not keeping you informed…off to bake some desserts to keep the house warm ;-)

Wednesday Without Words

Warning: Maniac in Motion. Enter at your own risk.

This should be a sign posted in my front yard.

I may have taken multi-tasking too far…

a pile of dirt in the laundry room
baby in “big girl” panties and “potty” in the kitchen
window cleaner and towel hanging off the back of the vacuum cleaner
two big girls eating breakfast
towel draped over the bottle of wood polish sitting on the top of the stairs
coffee brewing
wet mop leaning against the counter
emailing a cell phone number to my husband
checking facebook
posting to my blog

Now I need to decide which of these tasks needs my attention first…

I want to measure my ounces too!

Okay, so I do know how petty this is going to sound. And I do know that my jealousy is completely sinful. I even know that by mentioning this I will still not get what I want, because you see, I too, have a new refrigerator, just like my friend, and my new refrigerator has a water dispenser on the front of it, just like my friends. But what my new refrigerator does not have is a PreciseFill system which “dispenses filtered water in accurate measurements by ounces, cups, pints or liters, making it easier to prepare foods or mix drink.” The feature I covet the most is that you can program the number of ounces you need dispensed, place your container under the spout and WALK AWAY. Imagine, if you will, all the TIME I could save. So every time I push and hold my manual lever to disperse my water, be it into a cup or a line of water bottles, I count and I count and I covet. Even this morning as I filled the coffee pot with approximately two cups of water I wondered how much time I could gain by owning a PreciseFill System…

Grandmas Marathon

I did it! I did it in less than five hours! I will loose five toenails! And, yes, I would do it all over again.

Have I ever mentioned that I have Claustrophobic Tendencies and that in tight places I go slightly CRAZY? The mass created by 5000+ people was quite overwhelming, and I couldn’t tell you how many times throughout the race I had to talk myself out of a panic attack, whether fighting over the few slivers of shade along the side of the road or grabbing lukewarm cups of water from moving targets. Feeling the need to throw a few elbows and the unseasonably HOT weather made me extra grateful that I was simple able to complete the race in just less than five hours.

I am still on a high and can’t quit comprehend that I actually completed a Marathon. But my infected and brutally sore big toes continually remind me that they were pushed to limit.

Everybody’s favorite question is “Would you do it again?” The answer is, yes! Especially if it means my sister would join me.

Goldie Locks, Pooh Bear, and The Littlest Narrator

Sorry I don’t have the time to write the entire script, but know this Josh and I were literally hollowing with laughter as the girls performed their “play”. Thankfully they were planning a comedy so our laughter was welcomed.

Wednesday Without Words

That sinking feeling you get when you know your mind is crumbling…

I know I’ve lost my mind, but to demonstrate just how far gone it truly is I must first ask a Question: Did you know that today was Friday, June 12? I only ask, because all week it has simply been Friday, the Friday I was meeting some friends at the park…well, it turns out, that Friday, this Friday, the same Friday that I was meeting my friends, is Friday, June 12, the Friday I have Dentist appointments for the girls. Appointments, that I scheduled in October, and knew were on Friday, June 12, but didn’t realize was the same day as this Friday, the one that I was going to the park. Imagine if you can the disappointment when I called the clinic this morning to see if I could reschedule, they said the next available apt was in September. My mind, I tell you, is deteriorating…

Wednesday Without Words (Really)

Family Chatter

Andi: “That’s where mommy went in the ditch.” While pointing enthusiastically at almost the precise location where I did indeed go in the ditch.
Josh continues to keep his eyes on the road as a smirk that only a pleased father could wear begins to penetrate his face.
Jordan: “And why dose mommy go in the ditch?” In the most high pitched teacher voice she can muster without losing complete control.
I sit in irritated silence as Josh struggles to stifle the giggles.
Andi: “Because she drinks too much pop!” A connection no one is quite sure where or how she made, but none-the-less always gets included in this scenario.

And then the entire car bursts into a chorus of laughter…

This is the scene in our vehicle almost every time we drive a certain stretch of road from our house to almost any where else we go…Yes, I did go in the ditch a little over a year ago on a very snowy morning. Yes, the girls were in the truck when Josh came to my rescue. And, yes, Josh intentionally drives THIS way just to give the girls the opportunity to remind me.

Confession

I know I mentioned that I am a perfectionist, but did you really truly understand or consider what that meant? Probably not. Maybe through this confession you will gain an understanding, however I do not think you could ever realize just how obsessed I am with perfectionism. Confessing my use of an editor will not release any of my anxieties, in fact it may do the exact opposite. But it will allow me to blog more freely and timely. My Confession: I have had my posts edited. Now I am releasing her from that duty. So I ask you, in advance, to be gentle with your critiques. I apologize for my postings, re-postings and deleting of posts because of my typos, grammar errors, and downright foolishness in my quest for perfectionism (now free from an editor's eye). I am looking forward to the opportunity to blog more impulsively with the knowledge that I will create and make mistakes along the way, and that you will notice.

P.S. Don’t worry, I am unable to critique others' writings; that is why I used an editor.

Wednesday Without Words (almost)

Jordan as the Cutest of all Cute Spoons EVER in Beauty and the Beast!

Andi seeking to be the Kung Fu Master!

Dillon proving again that she does not like to be left alone

Setbacks Build Confidence

I experienced my first true disappointment in my quest for running the Grandmas Marathon yesterday. It was the day marked on my training calendar for 20 miles, a day I had been preparing for. To make sure there was no way to avoid the full 20 miles, I decided to run home from church; the long way. Mistake number one was leaving at noon, making the shade scarce as the unforgiving sun beat directly down; I began to pray for big fluffy clouds to block the hot yellow beast. Mistake number two was underestimating the slight breeze; the unrelenting gusts of 13mph plus crosswinds threatened to push me out of the shoulder and into on coming traffic. The third mistake was skipping lunch, the hunger pains I experienced were probably moderate at best, but coupled with excessive heat and threatening winds it felt much more extreme. These three things served up a well loaded can of Whip A$$ turning my 20 mile run into a grueling 15 mile survival hike complete with a KFC stop for a glass of ice and my Knight in Shinning Armor coming to my rescue...Although I willingly climbed in the truck, I know I could have walked the remaining 5 miles, but I was already mentally defeated and didn’t need to add ruining my average to the list of setbacks. Josh commented on not working hard enough to be soaked in sweat, but I was eager to explain that the wind licked away any moisture before it could be accumulated. All-in-all I remain confident I can complete the 26.2 miles, and that I can do so in less than 5 hours, so apparently not all was lost.

Gifts Are Simply Not Our Gift

“Did you know it was our anniversary?” That was the question my faithful husband posed to me as we sat down at a family picnic…obviously after someone had just congratulated him on 13 years of marriage. But before you get your undies in a bunch and start throwing insults towards him, let me tell you that I am not without fault. I have allowed "significant" dates and yearly celebrations to fall to the way side, because I perceive them as cop-outs. Take Valentine’s Day for example, one day out of 365 that most people expect something to happen, well pardon me for being high maintenance, but I simple expect more than that. I want to know I am loved more than one day out of every year. I understand the need to celebrate accomplishments within a relationship, but to do something “special” simply because of that one day, I struggle with significance in that. If I do receive a bouquet of flowers, a perennial plant, a card, or even a “date;” it just means more to me that it appears out of the blue and without prompting. Am I wondering if I am in the minority on this issue; so tell me how do you celebrate your Anniversary? What are your expectations for Valentine's Day?

May 2009 Family Photo

"What’s up?" you ask.

As my enduring fans I know you are simply dying to know. Well, I am running like a mad woman, literally, training for the Grandma’s Marathon. Andi is kicking and cross jabbing her way into the hearts of the karate studio instructors. Jordan is relishing the fact she can wear dresses without tights, and I believe she has done so faithfully for the past two weeks. Dillon keeps us on our toes; she is so different from the other two, needing much more direct supervision, and constant reprimanding. But all-in-all, her cuteness keeps her out of the slammer. Josh is working, studying, and training for a state-to-state bike ride later this summer. In a nutshell, that’s what is up.



Oh, and I am creating character profiles (which is my blogger time consumer) for the book I am going to publish, someday. Anyone have any good names for a faithful house servant who simply does everything?

Annoyed by the Small Things

Recently, as I was sorting through a mound of laundry I became increasingly aware of the articles of the clothing I was turning right side out. And with each piece, I became a little more agitated, thinking that some people could be a little more considerate by taking two seconds to right these items before throwing them into the laundry. So I started tossing these items in a pile to prove a point and to allow the guilty party the opportunity to endure the consequences. Right?

Well, life right now allows me to be home during the days and work in the evenings. I use the term 'stay-at-home' loosely, because Josh says I do not actually stay-at-home, which has some truth to it. What this means is that Josh is stripping the girls' clothing and putting them into pajamas almost every evening. In the mornings I am removing their pajamas and putting them into clothes for the day.

Okay, back to JUSTICE…As I am separating the laundry, I am becoming more and more aware of the fact that the clothing I am tossing into the consequences pile, over and over again, are the pajamas and undershirts. Occasionally, I was relieved to see a shirt or a pair of pants, but when I thought about when they were removed it was I that hastily removed the garment and tossed it into the laundry basket. Not Josh. Talk about being annoyed by the small things. Even when it comes to laundry the guy is one step ahead of me. I definitely got a good one.

Public Rudeness

One my favorite bloggers, The Antics of the three 22nd, posts some great questions and I have included some great responses. Here is one I feel needed to be added to my site: “How do you handle a situation where a stranger passively scolds your children in public?”
This is my response: Although equally as passive, my response has a rudeness value that packs a pretty true punch of reality. BTW this is a true life situation. I completely ignore the old crabby lady, and in my most high pitched school teacher voice ask my girls if they were enjoying their trip to the library, winking at my eldest, thus giving permission to respond with as much enthusiasm as possible. It was very effective, especially considering the librarians know us and see us regularly. I believe one of the volunteers even laughed out loud, as the lady picked up her purse and walked to the other side of the library.
Kids will be kids and I believe in letting them enjoy themselves, even in public. None of this "seen and not heard" malarkey.
This works in other situations too, especially department stores where the diapers and kids soaps are very near the Depends and Metamucil. Like I can avoid turning down this aisle “with rambunctious and ill-behaved children”, who were merely carrying on a conversation at top volume, while lingering behind me though the aisles. I just calmly turned around, winked, and asked the girls if they were having fun. Of course, I rewarded them with McDonalds after that performance; I couldn’t get the smile off my face. I love being a parent.

Note: when my girls are disobedient or disruptive, we leave. I have shed many a tear in the car on the way home from a disastrous trip, knowing I will have to go back all too SOON.

We've been framed

Celebrating 4 Years!

Family Chatter

Jordan: "Well, then I won't clean the toys in the living room until you turn on Arthur."
Mom: "I will not turn on Arthur until you clean up the toys in the living room."
Jordan: "Well, then I won't watch TV."
Mom: "Right!"

Andi: "If I were a worm, would you squish me because you loved me or just to see what would happen?"
Mom: "I'd squish you because I loved you." (Of course!)
Andi: "Well, I was trying to love it, but I squished too hard. Look what happened." (Poor worm, I hope you had a chance to tell your buddies to run!)

Dillon: Signing every sign she had learned in a two week period. And still throwing herself on the floor.
Mom: "Would you just tell me what you want."
Dillon: Stands up, grabs my legs, pulls me to her room and points to the crib, still repeating signs that make no sense.
Mom: "Do you want to go nighnight?"
Dillon: SIGH

Josh: "Did you lock the car door?"
Billi Jo: "Well, I think I did."
Josh: "You thought you did last night, too."
Billi Jo: "Well, did I?"
Josh: "No."
Billi Jo: "Oh."

The Slaughter House

Consider this a warning to the squeamish: this post contains images involved with processing meat.

Hunting season always brings the fear of, "What if...he really does shoot a deer?"

Unfortunately, Josh brought home two deer this season! So our garage once again turned into a slaughter house. Josh worked a couple of seasons processing deer and has slowly accumulated the tools deemed necessary to accomplish this task at home. For the two or three husbands that were forced into reading this post, now is the time to be jealous, very jealous. This year he got to pull out the over-powered motor to hook up to the way-too-big-grinder: power tools to process venison. A man will do anything to increase speed.

But let me tell you, I was beyond impressed. We accomplished in one night what has previously taken us an entire week. Josh was able to grind over 90lbs of venison in less than an hour while I struggled to keep up with wrapping and labeling. The sounds of the power tools, the hum of the bullet-heater as it increased the temperature in the garage to a comfortable 70 degrees, the whine of the motor as it spun the over-sized fly wheel on the way-too-big grinder, all helped to drown out the sucking noise as the venison entered the grinding shaft. Josh still will not confess the true per-pound-cost of the venison that fills our freezer, which should include the hotel, shooting range, and power tools, etc., but I am non-the-less pleased at the opportunity for us to bond, and I am certain James Dobson would agree: A couple who process deer together will stay together.

Barely an A

The other night I got the privilege of having only one kiddo, so I took advantage of the opportunity to go bra shopping. First of all, let me just say that I am in no way envious of any sales associate who works in the lingerie department. The fitting room was littered with bras and empty hangers before I even began my experience. And after I was done the room was significantly trashed. Anyway, did you know there is a manufacturer that offers a Nearly Size, like "Nearly a B"? How optimistic of them! However, what I need, at this point, is "Barely an A" that appears to be somewhat more than nothing at all. LOL.

Blogging can be downright painful

It even makes me cry, and crying, in my world, is completely unacceptable. I hate the sting of tears as they are being produced and the way they well up on the bottom of my eyelids, although sometimes at this point, I am able to halt the production before they spill out and run down my cheeks. But other times I am not. It is at these moments I feel helpless, out of control, and downright relieved that this release of true emotion can be so comforting.

Crying, whether from joy or sadness, is not one of my specialties. It ruins my mascara.

Why tell you all this? Well, the other night it all came crashing down on me when I sat down to reflect on and blog about the overwhelming sense of frustration I was feeling. I couldn't put my finger on why, so I allowed the psychologist in me to ask a few simple questions like: When did you first discover this sense of frustration? Who are you thinking about lately? Why do you think they are on your mind? And then it hit me like a physical punch to the gut: my sister is actually being deployed. The reality. The possibilities.

And all I could think about was how stupid I was to argue with her. Then I realized if my emotions were this far out of whack, I must truly love her. Just for the record, I always have loved her, the problem is the only way I know to show this love is to "question" her. Why did you do it that way? How come you didn't try this? Why on earth are you going to do that? When will you learn to do it my way? Part of the reason for the questioning is that I honestly want to know. Most of the reason for the questioning is not knowing how to tell her I love her AND the way she does things. (Stupid tears make it hard to see what I am typing).

So now I have reduced myself to using my blog as a way to tell my sister that I do indeed love her, I will miss her and I am so proud of her. These are the tears of joy, appreciation and downright respect for the one I will continue to question, as my way to show her my love, simply because I look up to her and have admired her for so long.

To this sister of mine…I love you…please be safe. And why do you have to be so stinking stubborn?

Locks of Love

How much time could a mom use, if a mom had all the time to use it?

I do not fit into the stereotype of woman that enjoys a two-hour bath. I even regard showering as a mere necessity for practicing proper hygiene. It is on a very rare occasion that I will take a "long" shower. On one such occasion, prior to jumping into the shower, I selected a pound of meat to thaw in the microwave at 10% power for 30 minutes. I grabbed the baby, a few toys and headed into the bathroom, turned on the shower to warm while I selected clothing to put on afterward. I got into the shower and literally took as much time as I wanted to wash, rinse, condition, and rinse my hair; I even scrubbed with some of that fancy sea salt oil. Seriously I stood in the shower for a decade. I even decided to shave my legs. All smooth and clean I got out, smothered myself in smelly lotion, got dressed, read a board book to the baby, and slathered in some hair product. Then I walked into the kitchen only to hear the microwave still working away at the pound of meat. There was seven minutes left.

Being Creative or Borderline Cheating…

I agreed to be apart of Julie's 500 Mile Club and I have developed a plan in which I am certain to come out victorious and one that will hopefully encourage the rest of you into joining My idea of a 500 Mile Club. I have converted everyday situations into miles…

Dusting for 30 minutes equals a half a mile
Washing the windows for 30 minutes equals half a mile
Filling/emptying the dishwasher or doing the dishes for 30 minutes equals a half a mile
Vacuuming for 30 minutes equals a half a mile
Sweeping for 30 minutes equals a half a mile
Moping with a mop for 30 minutes equals half a mile
Shoveling for 30 minutes equals 1 mile
Mowing the grass for 30 minutes equals 1 mile
Raking for 30 minutes equals 1 mile
Gardening for 30 minutes equals a half a mile
Hoeing for 30 minutes equals 1 mile
Wrestling with children (putting on winter apparel constitutes wrestling) for 30 minutes equals a half a mile
Sledding for 30 minutes equals 1 mile
Folding/putting away laundry for 30 minutes equals a half a mile

Because it is necessary to count for something…

Scrapbooking for 30 minutes equals one tenth of one mile

And last but not least…

Blogging for 30 minutes equals one tenth of one mile


I am convinced that if you calculate all of these events and the number of times they are actually performed everyone could complete 500 miles worth of activities in a reasonable amount of time, all of which would count towards gaining the bodily figures we so desire. Creativity is the only way I can successfully accomplish this task.

Please feel free to add other suggestions into my comments. Now get moving and start tracking your 500 miles.

Good Riddance Tannenbaum

Now that the season has passed and the misery is behind me I can reflect on the wonderful joys of the Hunt for our Christmas tree. Pretend you just heard the needle scratch across a record and we are warping back in time about five weeks…

Oh, don't remind me that Christmas Tree season is almost here. I despise the things and, try as I may to sabotage the whole event, I somehow always cave in and find myself snapping photos of my over-bundled children as they desperately try to keep up with their daddy. He plows his way through the knee-deep snow (keep in mind that knee-deep on my husband is about 10" of snow and waist-deep on the baby), through row upon row of sap-producing, needle-tossing, water sucking, spray painted, trimmed-to-perfection bushes. It pains me to decide which of the perfectly manicured shrubs to select, remove from its current location and bring into my home. And this, ladies and gentlemen, is just the beginning.

Once the tree is home the fun can truly begin, as I pull out and untangle the lights that I hope still work (at least for one more year), then proceed to walk in circles trying to hang the lights I hope will work once I get them up on the now dying and soon to be dead tree. Then I get to open the boxes upon boxes of "ornaments" and remove them from their mounds of tissue paper to place them on the tree, pretending not to know I will be removing, rewrapping and re-boxing them ALL in just a few short weeks. All this while warning my children to "JUST LEAVE IT ALONE!"

I truly, on so many different levels, do appreciate and desire a Charlie Brown Tree. It is simple, it is NATURAL, and it is unique. This year I simply gave up. I untangled and hung the lights that happened to only function part of the season; I hung two strands of beads and two strands of metal hearts; I allowed the girls to hang candy canes and that was ALL. As close to simple as I could get my family to accept. And even still I overheard Josh comment that it was the most boring Christmas tree he'd ever seen.

Beauty truly is in the eye of the beholder, because I thought, and still think it was BEAUTIFUL. Yet another example of how minimalist I truly am. Maybe one year as a gift to me, we could just scratch the whole real tree thing and simply decorate the front window like one of Anthropologie's window displays, which, by the way, I spent half of one free afternoon simply admiring. Sounds pretty cynical I know, I just do not understand what joy there is pulling things out only to put them away…not for a tree. Someone please provide a worthwhile reason for enduring this ritual.