I received confirmation last night that the Arkansas-bound and Tennessee-bound boxes of gifts arrived unscathed. All of my shopping is complete, wrapped, and under the tree. Unless he's been hiding things, Hubbyfink needs to start his shopping. That's not entirely true. He ordered a gift for my brother (who's name he drew) last week (because I wouldn't let up on nagging him about it). In other Christmas news, the cats have not destroyed any ornaments (as of this writing, anyway) and the sacrificial plastic ornaments fastened to the lower branches around the center of the tree have done a fantastic job of both keeping the four-leggeds entertained and reflecting light back through the bare spots amongst the branches.
( Obligatory tree photo )
The tree doesn't entirely look like that anymore. I have compulsively rearranged the ornaments several times to fill in holes and blank spots. I spotted the most grievous hole while on the sofa last night and Scott actually physically held me down to keep me from jumping up to rearrange again. I wriggled away by claiming that I needed to get my dinner from the oven and then zipped around him to move one ornament from a less-than-ideal spot into the hole. Much better.
We took to calling Oreo "Smaug" and Margie "Little Smaug" because they both jealously guarded the bottom of the tree. At this point, neither can fit under the tree because of all of the gifts, so Smaug curls up on his favorites at the periphery. I know he'll be happy to crawl back into his tree cave in a week and a half.