Bambi in the Christmas Tree

We went to Minnesota for Christmas, as we always do, for a few all-too-short days with my parents at City Bella, framed on either side by that 12-hour drive. A bit of ice, but not too bad this time (last year was terrifying).

We had a wonderful time – a whirlwind, a pause, a gasp of fresh cold air, a van packed to the max with stuff, a trudge through the snow, a trip to IKEA for lamps (one of them, on my desk now, cost only $2.99), a visit to the Walker Art Center to see the Text/Messages art books show, a visit to TMORA, The Museum of Russian Art, to stand in awe in front of the icons, a Christmas morning brunch with Grandmother Boo and her Christmas Box Theater, in an audience of many children, a visit with Thea and Sandy and Jenny, and one with Rose, and a trip to Wedge Co-op with Wally, our Bush Tucker man (patient, reliable gatherer of food), where we got watercress, clementines, fair trade tea, seeded wheat bread, free-range chicken, bath salts, and everything else. Meals, did I mention the meals? My parents are fabulous cooks.

When we returned, we came into the house to find a Christmas tree (we'd skipped all decorating this year), left by my dear friend Deb from Kensington, Maryland. She adorned it with the gas station stag I found on our visit to her house at Thanksgiving (she's keen to my Bambi obsession). Under the tree were some beautiful presents from the Freer + Sackler Galleries, home of the magnificent Garden and Cosmos Show. It was such a joy to walk in to find this enchanting tree, which I moved into the dining room, next to Sav's drawing of the trip to Minnesota, and the wooden bear with girl on his back from TMORA, that my mother gave me for Christmas. The sweet tree is still there a week later, but most of the candy has disappeared.