We put up our Christmas twig last week. That's right, our Christmas twig. A humble limb that was rescued from our yard, debarked, spray painted silver and dressed up to resemble a festive evergreen. This is the third Christmas this silvery twig has sat in the corner of our living room, taking up little room (which is a bonus for our tiny space) but emitting a more brilliant, concentrated glow. I wasn't so sure about this here twig when Nate first dragged it in from the yard after it fell to the ground during a wicked winter storm. He insisted it become our Christmas tree that year and promised to dress it up right for the holidays. Who am I to argue the creative process - I gave in. He's in charge of decorating it each Christmas and I'm really starting to enjoy its crooked stature and quirky naturalness. A tree only a mother could love. Happy holidays everyone.