My most favourite thing about this season is the excuse to fill the house with winter greenery. Sure, I have flowers in vases in the summer, and even the odd house plant that survives long-term neglect. But none of this compares with squeezing an entire tree in to your front room. And it just isn’t Christmas without the smell of pine needles.
This year we’ve found ourselves without an armchair (you’ll now find it in the new kitchen) and no way to buy one before Christmas. So we had the perfect excuse to fill half the room with a tree far too big to be sensible.
I felt seven years old all over again, feeling so excited about how ridiculous big our tree is. I loved last year’s tiny tree, but this is the real big-kid hang-your-stockings-santas-coming deal. I am revelling in it, and it hasn’t even got lights yet. The 25th is still a while away after all.