Saturday, December 22, 2007

Home is where the heart is

When we got the car to a garage and the tree home, it turned out it was 12 feet high. It did not look that big in the forest. As my husband manhandled it into a stand and screwed it into place, he said: "I'm so glad you chose this tree and not me." Luckily we could squeeze it into the lounge in the arches where we have a vaulted ceiling. It is so large it reminds me a little of the one they have in Trafalgar Square. I keep expecting to walk in and find the Salvation Army gathered round it singing "Oh Come All Ye Faithful."

It is just as well it is so big, it may take my mother and father's minds off how cold it is in there. Their own house is so warm you could grow orchids in it. They have roaring artificial fires and central heating which they like to use at the same time. They are careful to close doors after themselves and have double glazed windows which are sealed so tight that I believe in the event of a nuclear war, they would be entirely safe from radiation sickness and hold out just as long as their tinned products. I wanted them to be equally as warm here but the underfloor heating is a disaster. The plumber has been back, the electrician has been back, the builder has been back but it is still not right. There is nothing more we can do before Christmas. Meanwhile we have shipped in four heaters to take the worst of the chill off the air.

The "arches" consists of a cold and tree-filled lounge, an even colder bedroom and a showerroom off the bedroom. The idea is everything is at ground level for my mother and father and they can stay with us for longer periods but still have their own space when they need it. I am irritated that it is not perfect for them. They arrived yesterday and last night my husband lit a fire in there. They sat together on the new sofa; the lights glowing on the Biggest Christmas Tree in the World; my mother sipping her tea. I said: "I'm sorry the heating doesn't work properly." She said: "Actually, it's just right."


Wisewebwoman said...

And that's what mothers who are grandmothers do. Sit in the cold and tell you it is perfect. Beautifully written, WITN, I'm sure the tree is totall self-righteous poised above y'all.
Blessings of the Season,

Crystal Jigsaw said...

I bet your tree looks fantastic. With or without Salvation Army rattling their tin.

Crystal xx

Kaycie said...

It sounds gorgeous, wifey. Your mother is happy that you've gone and made such a wonderful place for your parents when they visit you. Of course she proclaimed it just right. Well done.

George said...

... 12 feet high

This is something I wonder at - do people actually use the metric system in everyday life in GB?

Ciao said...

George, I still convert back to "old money" when shopping , I expect its better than Sudoku, I hope the weather warms up wifey it's freezing here in Newcastle Happy Christmas xx

dollshouselin said...

Thanks for the little tear.......carefully wrap those memories of grandma and grandaughter.but dont tuck them away until you've shared with us.hugs to wifey, no postcards from her for a few days......ex...pect she may need ear plugs if the boys are as excited as the littleys in here today.Enjoy the'll be conjuring your own.Luv xxxx

merry weather said...

She's obviously a good mother, as are you. I like these Christmas tales of yours - are they helping you to make up your mind about staying, I wonder?

Happy Christmas to you Wife in the Northx

rilly super said...

I'm sorry, I get all emotional at this time of year and this has really set me off, sob sob

happy christmas darling

lady thinker said...

I just wish I could be part of your family party - it sounds wonderful. Enjoy and be sure to lay down some happy family memories of this your first Christmas in your beautifully restored home.
Happy Christmas and many blessings.

lady thinker said...

A 12' tree - I'm beginning to envisage a Baronial Hall - no wonder I didn't get an invite to join your family get together.