And no, that’s not with fur, but with friends, food and festive trees.

While I type, a fir-y friend has my back.

Not a new fangled Canadian cross-breed Balsam-meets-Douglas fir, but a good old balsam fir. The natural scent of a fresh deforestation victim lingers in the air of my apartment, and I’ll take this as one of my non-organic enjoyments, thanks.

Best of all, the twinkling lights and decorations old and new remind me of Christmasses past, present, and the friends who gathered round this Sunday to trim the tree in a seven-hour extravaganza.

Declared the outright winner in most fun tree trimming party. I wish you all could have been there.

But seeing as all but about 30 weren’t.. here’s a window to the festivities.

Jay tops the tree with a South African wire angel.

Everyone watches, advises and catcalls the tree topper.

Hang out and chilling with a great tree in sight.



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