Of course you can build on good memories. You are supposed to. We used to have a real tree but where I come from they were all skimpy. I would get two trees and my dad would drill holes in one and add branches from the other to fill it out He would put the bad side to the wall or put it in a corner and he always tied it to the wall because those stands were so wimpy. By the time we took it down the floor would be full of needles. The cat would get in it or just bat the ornaments and break some. Remember the pre plastic glass ornaments. Oh and tinsel. What a pain. And those big ugly lights. I remember making paper chains in school too. And those paper bells that opened up like an accordion. Tin foil Merry Christmas's to string across the window and we would put a speaker outside for music.
My mom would cover the turkey legs with tin foil so they wouldn't over cook and she would baste it till it was a perfect golden brown.
The only bad memory was that people drank too much. So that one I just ignore. My parents are gone but not the memory. I'm glad that today I had the opportunity to go back and remember this and if I colour it better than it was that is what building on it is supposed to do.
This year is very special. Sunny is making it so with lights and a tree and decorations. And so many cookies and we are just started. Keeping it fun though.
Hi all: Don't exactly remember my favourite Christmas, but I do remember one when I was about 8 yrs. old and I got up in the middle of the night and saw gifts under the tree. I remember it as a magical moment with some light coming in the livingroom window - everything looked so pretty, so special, well, just so magical. Even if at that age I knew Santa was "helped", lol, I remember standing - not too close, it wasn't Christmas morning just yet - but close enough so I could just look and look and look. It was magical indeed.
Since many of us are trying to rejoin society, and get "out there", I wonder if we could build on the good past memories?
I can only remember a "real" tree, and the metal tripod that holds it with needles all over the ground. After dad died, we'd never put up a tree again. Seeing a real tree is so special though...
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