If you saw my guest post on Design Mom the other day, you know there isn’t a single ball on our Christmas tree. Every year I buy a few glass ornaments that represent the year coming to a close for us individually and as a family. It’s a neat tradition, and it has the added benefit of preventing me from changing the look of our tree every year. Because, please, that’s absolutely something I would do. Were it not for my ban on filler decorations, I would have a pile of ornaments rivaled only by my wrapping paper.
This year I bought the Star Wars Rex Helmet ornament for the boys, of course, but dithered too long and missed out on Darth and R2D2. I’m at Target every other hour, so I have hope the magic of restocking will soon make them mine. As for we, the parents, I wasn’t really sure. I mean, I had an idea of the general theme. It’s not every year the Mister loses his mentor and his mentor’s wife to sudden illness three weeks apart, both of whom happen to be the parents to one of my oldest friends. Nope, that doesn’t happen every year! And it’s a good thing, too, because what a bitch of an ornament to find. Tombstones? A giant teardrop? I know, maybe something depicting twenty million cardboard boxes full of two homes and 40 something years. Is that something Hallmark makes? (As it turns out, kinda.)
I don’t know if I’ve ever mentioned this before, but I have an issue with people who have issues with food. My middle brother was a ridiculously picky eater as a child. My mother, being Latin, catered to his every whim. Separate dinners? Of course! Eating the same foods over and over again? Naturally. Waiting on the side of the parking lot for a special order McDonald’s hamburger while our fries shriveled? Don’t mind if we do! My brother outgrew his finickiness eventually, and he is now the most adventurous eater among us. But I will never forget that feeling of frustration, a feeling that came to a boiling head when I browbeat him into trying a slice of cheese pizza at Chuck E. Cheese when he was 5 years old. I wanted to pry his mouth wide open with my foot and toss in broccoli just to make a point. You think melted cheese and warm bread is bad? Try a cruciferous vegetable.
Helena has issues with food. Better stated, she doesn’t care much about food. It’s neither here nor there, unless we are talking about foods she won’t eat, of which there are many. She likes good quality chocolate and capers, that much I know after all these years. Not together, of course. That would be as insane as eating a mushroom, a perilous act I once suggested in college while we stood in line at a salad bar.
“Yuck. I hate mushrooms.”
“What’s wrong with mushrooms? They’re my favorite.”
“Aside from the fact they’re fungi, nothing.”
Mushrooms are fungi and cheeses, bacteria. Pick your poison! I’m sure she went for the cheddar.
This went on over the years until our final battle over invertebrates, of all things.
“How can you not like shrimp?”
“Because they are scavengers.”
“What?!”
“Shrimp are scavengers. They eat the ocean’s garbage. When you eat shrimp, you’re eating garbage.”
“No, when I eat shrimp I’m eating good and butter and garlic. They’re delicious.”
“Garbage.”
“Lobster?”
“Giant cockroaches.”
“What is wrong with you? How can you not like shellfish? HOW CAN YOU NOT LIKE SHRIMP?!”
And then, I will never forget this. Helena, confident in the argument, scrunched up her face, curled up her lips, and made a bizarre, squirrel-like chirping noise with her teeth and lips while her fingers fanned her mouth like antennas. Then she looked me dead in the eyes and said, “Scavengers.”
I wanted to tie her up and drop her in the middle of a Long John Silvers.
After her parents died this summer, she went to Sweden to visit her mother’s family and host a memorial. I took on the task of feeding her father’s swarm of violent, ravenous hummingbirds. Every now and then she would send emails updating us on her trip. This one was the most shocking.
Hello Everyone, Just wanted to say hello from Sweden! We are having an amazing time and our flight was nice! We have adjusted to the time change quite well. The travel through the countryside has been fun as well. Today we walk in the forest right outside my friend’s house to pick wild mushrooms which we’ll have dinner… bye for now… Hej da love Helena
Say what? You could have knocked me over with a feather. My reply said as much.
I had to read the mushroom line twice to make sure I was reading things correctly. Helena, eating mushrooms?! What’s next, shrimp?
She got a kick out of my reply, and then told the story of our many dorm room arguments to her family and friends. I’m sure she skewed the telling of it so she didn’t look quite so absolutely impossible when it comes to food, but I let it slide since she was in mourning.
I suppose there was a shorter way for me to explain why I turned the corner at Target and smiled when I saw a box of glass mushroom ornaments, and why I knew immediately they were the perfect ones to remind us of this year for Christmases to come. Yes, I could have written this post more succinctly. A picture, a pithy 300 words. But, damn if it doesn’t give me smug satisfaction to know Helena is reading this right now in absolute horror at the idea of being immortalized as a mushroom on a tree.
Revenge may be a dish best served cold, but good old fashioned teasing tastes best with fungi and scavengers and butter and garlic. Okay, fine, capers too.
I suppose that you could have, but then we would have missed out on the little journey that you took us on.
Yesterday, my brother & sister in-law came back from a trip to NYC. They brought us a skyline ornament from Macy’s. I laughed and my husband was confused. True story.
P.S. The mushroom is so much better than the Hallmark ornament.
Oh yeah. That Hallmark ornament is kind of atrocious.
For the record, Darth is on our tree. I hope you find him (and if you want to know why we have him, you can read about it: http://www.carriesbusynothings.com/2011/11/stockings-were-hung-decking-halls.html). I loved, loved, loved this story and am quite sure that you will laugh each time you hang the mushroom on your tree. Thanks for sharing it with us.
Also, if you want to hear about a picky eater turned Julia Child, I’ll leave another link to my post from today. It’s amazing how GOOD food can be, once it’s cooked right and you get past yourself! :-)
Here’s the picky eater link…
http://www.carriesbusynothings.com/2011/12/sprouts-from-brussels.html
I’m making that Brussels sprout recipe. Everything is better with bacon.
Lovely little story about the mushroom “bulbs”. I think it is charming when things have obscure personal meanings, it just makes life sweeter. I must say you cracked me up with the brother and McDonalds story, hello my life 1976ish waiting in the parking lot for a “plain” burger! Thanks for sharing!!
Yes! He wanted a plain hamburger. Absolutely plain.
Fate is a fickle whore, because I ended up married to a guy who made his family wait in the parking lot for a hamburger without onions. Without onions?! Those aren’t even really onions! You can’t even taste them underneath all that ketchup and mustard! But, no, to this day I am the sucker getting lunch and specifying no onions on burgers.
I like the long version:) Read every word.
GASP! What a perfect ornament–love it (and, especially, the story behind it)!
I had the very same conversation with a friend in college, while we were going through the cafeteria salad bar. Of course, she had to add, “You know they can digest a feather.” To which I replied, “Great! Maybe I can eat more without gaining weight!” (It doesn’t seem to be working, by the way. Wretched luck.)
Mushrooms can digest feathers? Good Lord, I hope Helena isn’t reading this. She doesn’t need more ammunition.
Ha! I love it. I saw those mushroom ornaments on Monday at Target and thought, “Who in the world would put a mushroom on their tree?!” Glad to know you would.
To an outsider, I’m pretty sure my tree looks schizophrenic.
You are a wonderful writer – not everyone is Hemingway – and frankly, the world would be a lot LESS if everyone was. I enjoyed this essay quite a bit – and musushrooms – fantastic!
I agree: I am definitely not Hemingway and mushrooms are fantastic. :)
I’m so glad you took the time to explain. We can all relate to friends whom love, but are insane about certain things. :)
Yes, my friends are lucky to have me since I’m so sane. ;)
I loved your story and can relate to it so much. Our middle daughter has always very carefully considered any food put in front of her. We have had the exact conversation about shrimp and they never cross her lips along with chicken, any shellfish and pork. Never thought I would have to consider if an animal was “segmented” (like a shrimp or lobster) or a “bottom-feeder” like a crab. Oh well, just more for the rest of us.
Your story started my day off with a chuckle. Thank you for that.
Helena’s boyfriend just told her some fact about all fish being scavengers of some sort. Put her in a tail spin. Your story of your middle daughter reminded me of that. :)
Favorite. Post. Ever.
It’s funny you write about how to commemorate a year filled with so much sorrow. I have had the same thought myself, given how one of the biggest “themes” of the year is definitely my father’s diagnosis with leukemia. We ended up buying an ornament from the hospital’s collection of art designed by children patients. It’s a gorgeous red cardinal in the snow (http://www.childrensart.org/product_info.php?cPath=6&products_id=1825). I like your positive twist of remembering your friend via the mushrooms.
I clicked on the link, but it didn’t work! Now I want to see…
p.s. As far as commemorating such a tragic year, I do it because in a lot of ways it was a gift. Not many, but one tiny thread of it was good because it changed me for the better, and that tiny thread will impact me more than the sorrow–of which there was, and is, plenty.
I told you that your posts were a salve to my spirit. My brother was in an accident this weekend and has been in a trauma center far from home.
You reminded me that there are bigger problems.
And humor along the way. Great way to remember the year and your friendship.
Oh no! I hope your brother is okay. :( xoxo
I laughed so much at this even though the humour is closely tied to sadness. But Helena, the honours go to you for the shrimp face. That’s great! I hope you can still do this.
I asked her this morning if she remembered the shrimp face, and she did. I guarantee she can still do it. If you want to know Helena, watch The New Girl. My husband and I can’t get over how similar her personality is to Zooey Deschanel’s character. I’m more like the character’s friend, except not hot.
I had actually wondered who would want mushrooms on their tree. You wouldn’t have been my first guess.
I like to keep people guessing.
I just love you.
Back at ya.
Oh, picky eaters are the worst. I know since I’ve got one of them at home. Who eats an olive but won’t eat a sandwich? I mean vehemently, like it’s poop or something. I don’t get it.
I like the mushroom, for what it symbolizes to you of course, but also it’s cute. Reminds me of gnomes and friendly forest animals.
I think that’s who is supposed to buy this ornament. Nature people, hippies, loadies, and weird people like me.
I have a stained glass toadstool ornament on my tree, and I suspect DH would agree entirely with that list. :)
I’m too sentimental (and/or frugal) to change my tree decorations every year.Although only some of mine were bought specifically to commemorate an event (mostly travel; a Household Cavalry soldier from London, a Stork from Alsace etc) I can remember the story behind most of them. The stained glass toadstool was made by a local lady who sold her decorations at the village market where I used to sell cakes. And eclectic would probably be the most polite word to describe my tree. I think it’s beautiful!
I like your long stories.
D was a ridiculously picky eater when we were kids. No vegetables, at all, in any form. I remember being 17 and my little sister asked if I was going to marry him someday and I told her I wouldn’t even consider marrying someone who didn’t eat onions. It would rule out too many meal options. I was dead serious.
One year into college we had a Valentine’s date at that little Italian restaurant in the village and he ordered a salad. And ate it, with minor grimacing. It was the best gift ever.
He now eats EVERYTHING, and has even gamely tried a few things that scare me off a bit (um, cuttlefish). Apparently sometimes all you need is a really good threat.
For the record, I’ll admit that I dislike capers (salt balls!), almond extract (tastes fake!) and caraway seeds (luckily we live in a city where I can track down rye bread sans caraway seeds). So I’m not a perfect eater.
Funny thing about Rachel and I. We went to the same college(s), but many years apart. We never met, obviously. One day a couple of years ago, I was reading her blog and she showed an image of one of the neighborhoods near campus. I made a comment on her blog that I went to college around there. She replied that she went to college there, too. It’s a small college, so it’s funny we should “bump” into each other online.
Also, every 6-12 months I try to get her to share the story of how she and her husband met, since they were children when they did. (And they’ve been together since they were teens.) I’m a sucker for a childhood love story. I think it’s been 6 months since I last asked you, Rachel, so, you know. I’m asking.
Back to food: I’m not a perfect eater, either. I believe melons are the devil’s food, and root beer is his liquor. Capers are also suspicious, but tolerated since they usually swim in butter.
I didn’t put up one glass ball ornament this year. My mother is a firm believer you need no less than 10 boxes of the ugly ass things on your tree. Little does she know I donated all 39 boxes of them this summer.
Love the shrooms, love you, love Helena.
Your mom is going to flip. :) Love you, too.
This is an amazing story – love it! I’m wondering if you have set down the stories for other ornaments. Some (Star Wars) will be fairly obvious, but having read this post I’d be willing to bet you have other ornaments with stories that are not readily apparent.
So – this is the kind of stuff I worry about. It’s what got me started keeping scrapbooks after my breast cancer diagnosis (I swear I won’t bring that up in every comment) – sure that I would die and no one would know who was in the pictures or what the stories behind them were. Kept me up at night until I finally started doing something about it.
If I had breast cancer, you wouldn’t hear the end of it. Talk away–it helps.
One of my first posts on this blog was about my ornaments. Not my best work (ahem); I’m often tempted to rewrite it. There are actually a lot of stories I’ve almost published here about my childhood, high school, college…but I hold back, worried they may come off as uninteresting. Or, even worse, narcissistic. You know, like those times you recount a family story, only to realize your listeners had to be there to think it’s funny/interesting/insert appropriate adjective. Worst of all, though, is the fear I will seem consumed with the past and not at all happy with the present, which is untrue, of course. That’s a long way to say I have the same worries, but haven’t found a way to assuage my fears.
I have read back but not all the way to the beginning of your blog (I came here first during the 31 William Morris days), so I’ll have to go look. And please – tell stories! I love hearing/reading people’s everyday memories and stories, and I suspect most of your other readers would love them too, because you tell them so well. :)
Thanks about the breast cancer – it’s been 14 years, which I can’t quite believe, and mostly has become routine for me to mention. Daughter #1 was 8, and #2 was only 11 months old, so I was really sure I would die and she would have no memories of me.
I am TOTALLY one of those people who decorates trees after a theme. For the last few years it’s been a “retro” silver tinsel tree with red & aqua ornaments (the colors coordinate perfectly with my living room). This year I made the switch to “enchanted woodland” which features lots of felt animals, gnomes, and mushrooms. I’m sure you’ve seen them all at Target. I just couldn’t resist all those cute little critters, and I justified buying them by saying I could reuse them later in Hypothetical Baby’s nursery (I’ve planned to do a woodland theme for years, as evidenced by my Pinterest board).
On a completey unrelated and equally unimportant note, if I could devise a way to inflict a blight on every crop of melon (save watermelon) on the planet, I wouldn’t think twice.
See, if I gave myself that license I wouldn’t have the same tree two years in a row. I know how I am! You, at least, have had retro for several years.
I loved this! I would much rather take the scenic route with a story than get there as quick as possible.
I don’t have much tolerance for picky eaters. In fact, I’ve been known to sneak stuff to people, like onions chopped really small, to see if they notice. I think a lot of it’s psychological. But you didn’t hear me say that. ;)
As for your tree decorating style, I think it’s brilliant. Like a giant charm bracelet where every charm means something special. I love that.
Love this story. I too have friends who will not eat certain things. My BIL was almost not allowed in the family because he does not like mushrooms and olives.
I’m with Helena. Mushrooms are gross.
I must admit though at first, sideways glance my first thought was “why does Jules have a glass penis on her tree?”
I laughed at myself. It’s been a long week. LOVE the post!
+500 points. You mean you thought it was a Jericho Barrons ornament, right?
Totally. What better way to memorialize your first reading of ‘Darkfever’? Forget Elf on the Shelf. Penis on the Tree is the new way to fly.
I will take my butter and garlic with mushrooms, always. With shrimp? Meh. No thank you. I just don’t care for most seafood, mainly because of the texture. I will eat it to be polite or to try it, but I don’t enjoy it the way I enjoy other foods.
I’m with Helena and the picky eaters on this one. I am not a picky eater anymore, but I used to be one as a kid. The funny thing, though, is that many of the foods I didn’t eat, I desperately wanted to like. But I couldn’t get past the texture, or the smell. I don’t think I would have been officially diagnosed with anything, but I had a lot of sensitivities as a kid—to smells, textures, too much noise, too many people, new things, itchy clothes—and dealing with them wasn’t just a matter of gritting my teeth. Often it was truly overwhelming to me and I would shut down when someone tried to force me to eat something I didn’t like or stay in a room full of people I didn’t know, all looking at me. I’m not saying Helena was that way in college, but I am sympathetic to picky eaters in general.
My tree never ever has a theme, except “Memories of my Life and Loved Ones.” I never even heard of a themed Christmas tree until I was in my early 20s. I thought everyone’s tree was covered with ornaments that had been made in childhood or given to the family by the grandparents.
I love your approach to finding ornaments. Love the charm bracelet idea – using the tree as a family history of sorts. Where do you find all the unique ornaments like that? I’m obviously not checking out the right places. The mushrooms were a perfect way to commemorate the year.
This is beautiful.
I’ve thought about this post for the last few days. 98% of our ornaments are handmade felt ornaments collected by my Mom over the course of 25 years. Meaningful, but only to me because I grew up with them. Now that I have a family of my own, they are sweet (and perfect for little hands to hang on the tree), but they don’t mean much to us as a Family. You inspired me to start buying an ornament to capture each year – starting with a graduation cap to symbolize my husband finishing medical school! I hope that over the next few years we can grow our collection and split them into 2 trees – one with felt & one with glass decor.
Also, it is really ideal to fit sneakers through the
latter part of the day simply just for the reason that the ft have a tendency of enlarging a little bit during the total day.
The armor can be randomly dropped by a Cultist located in Lake
Calenhad. Rather than getting a normal pair of boots, these are the times you need something more hardy
and tough that would withstand the wear and tear of
time.