One of the first casualties of the downsizing when we move from Rome back in 2011 was the 10 foot Christmas tree. There was just no way it would fit either in the apartment or in storage – so off it went to Good Will to be replaced by a smaller (European?) model. And with diminution of the festive boughs came the discover that first Christmas of a surfeit of decorations. Much like the Mad Hatter I was left caroling “No room! No room!” So a pronouncement went out that as of now (Christmas 2011) there were to be no more Christmas decorations purchased henceforth and forthwith!
However one definition of the noun pronouncement says that it is after all only a formal way of expressing an opinion. And as we all know opinions are just that … And not really binding. And besides we have nothing on the tree that speaks to my Irish heritage. And what could say Ireland more than a beblinged Brian Boru harp and Dublin more than a besequined Georgian door? So these two will be joining the Russian pig and our brightly polished balls (oh stop it!!!) on this year’s tree.
But even Juan, not known for his restraint – except perhaps in conversation – thought that these creatures would be be a bit over-the-top. So the two Riverdance-want-to-bes will not be setting our tree to jiggling and our lovely balls a tumbling – STOP IT I SAY! – as they relentlessly stomp away.
On this day in 1883: First run of the Orient Express.