127. Christmas (3) The Wreath

 Of course I did notice. No-one could fail to notice that Christmas wreaths had begun to appear on the front doors of our streets. Long vines of ivy effortlessly entwined with branches of fir-trees were now adorning the doors of number 40, 42, 18 and 14, even 21 across the road had theirs. All were definitely home-made, using ingredients that had been collected in gardens of during long country walks. Of course I intended to have mine up too. Of course I was going to use raw natural elements. And no, it had never crossed my mind to order it online. Although it did cross my mind that a white (plastic) frosty wreath amongst all these evergreens would look cool indeed. I wondered where my Christmas spirit had gone when, walking with a friend, she said something that made me realise the extent of my neglect. 

'Your street is looking really beautiful, all these houses with decorations up.'

'Yes.' I replied. 'I'm going to put some up too.'

It was not a lie. I had always intended to put a wreath on my door, probably even before the first one appeared. Yet, I had not 'got round to it' but now it was Friday and we had nothing planned for the weekend. I had no excuse not to get going on it.

Once home I shouted at Miss Organiser.

'Car keys, please.'

No reply.

'CAR KEYS, PLEASE!' I yelled from the corridor.

She came down. Finally. There was now an urgency to the business at hand. Christmas was coming! And coming fast! 

'Hello! What's the matter?' She said, all calm and relaxed as usual.

'Dad and I have told you. Millions of times. You borrow the car, you put the keys back in the pot. OK?'

'I just forgot. Anyway, I need to borrow the car to pick up Baby.'

'No, it's OK. I'm going. I need a few bits and bobs.'

She gave me a puzzled look. I reckoned it was because she had already organised to do the school run.

'Cool!' She said looking at me weirdly and handing me the keys. 'Off you go.' 

It was Friday night and every single kid in that huge school was being picked up. The carpark was chock-a-block with parents. I wondered if they were off to get their decorations too. It took us 45 minutes to get out of there. I said to Baby:

'We're going shopping! You're in? Nothing fancy, that big store up the steep road everybody goes on about. We need Christmas stuff.' 

'Great! I've never been there! ... And my friends cannot believe me when I tell them I've never been there. They go all the time. I don't know what they buy there. I mean, there's no clothes, no shoes, no sports gear! And ... and .... we can see what there is to buy ... and maybe ... yeah Christmas lights? ... More lights?'

I reflected now was the time to change Baby's name to Miss Chatterbox. Once in the shop and much to my surprise we enjoyed rummaging around in the packed aisles and I found inspiration not only for my stuck in a rut projects but got new ideas too. We cone out with bagfuls of stuff. 

'What's all this?' Everyone asked when we got home.

'I need to make a wreath for the front door.'

'I was wondering if you were going to join in ... funny this, this year ...'

'Good idea! But ... It's got to be a good one. The pressure is definitely on!'

Too late to go for long walks in the country so I started by trimming the bottom branches of our tree and spent some time sitting on the cold tiles cutting and tying bit of fir tree together. The result was just a bushy mess! It just looked like a bundle of branches. Nothing I could proudly attach to my front door. And honestly everyone's comments were beginning to get to me.

'Mum! Why did you trim the tree? Is it to make room for our huge presents? '

'You need a wire coat-hanger.' My husband said.

'Look! This one's cool!' Someone else was saying while brining up wreath on the family computer scree.

But then everyone disappeared and I was left alone with my creativity. Obviously my noisy family was the problem: they were interfering with my orange chakra. Once on my own the ideas came back flowing in. I made a circular frame and attached branches from the tree as a base. I went in the garden to cut some holly and added that. I added the mistletoe I had bought from the market. Now it did look like a wreath. I delved into my shopping back and retrieved two little white angels which I wired to the frame so they dangled from the top. Finally I threaded a rustic looking string with tiny battery operated LED lights. Perfect. 

I went outside. I was pleased with myself and was looking forward to the evening when the lights would be at their best. My husband was parking the car further down the street and I heard voices and laughter.

'Thank you! That's really appreciated but we've got our own now. Look! My wife has just made one! ... But thanks anyway because I think you were the inspiration!'

I had finished my wreath just in time! I would have been so ashamed to put up a wreath given to me by the neighbours!