It’s difficult to play favorites. But my favorite Christmas ornaments are those which mean something specific: the ones collected on trips and adventures, those given me by friends, and those which hung on my grandparents’ tree.
A brief history (photos below):
2. Senior year in college, Spring Break trip with my cousin and my dear college friend to visit my aunt in Alaska. My friend gifted me this: of course we’d skiied (cross country & alpine) and sat in hot tubs. #alaskaforever
3. The copper wolf I bought myself at age 26, in a tiny town in Montana, where I was a writer-in-residence at the Montana Artists Refuge (a gift of a month which changed my writing life).
4. My babies. Aren’t the preschool ornaments killers?
6. George and Martha! From Mount Vernon, where I took my older daughter as part of a special, big-kid Spring Break when she was in 4th grade.
7. Ornaments from Colonial Williamsburg—the King’s Tavern and Governor’s Palace—from an after Christmas adventure with my in-laws. They gifted all of us the trip, and it was a ball.
8. A Nordic star, from Epcot’s Norway Pavilion, and an unforgettable Disney trip with my parents, sister and her family (a Christmas gift from my parents to all of us).
9. A birthday gift (I’m a Sagittarius) from a dear friend, which entreats me to “listen.”
10. Two ornaments, old and precious, which hung on my grandparents’ tree. One of them spins from the heat; as a child I’d crawl as far as I could get under their Christmas tree and stare up into it, fully believing in magic.