Now THAT'S a tree!

For the first time, we have a two-story living room in this house.  So, I sent David out last night with the kids to get a Christmas tree.  He wanted "tall and skinny" ... with the emphasis on TALL.  Man, I need a cherry picker to decorate this thing!  It's huge!  I think it's about 15 feet tall.  It's Christian's turn to put the star on top, but I think he may have to take his life into his hands to do it.  I think I'm going to leave the higher branches to David, due to my life-long fear of heights.  (And the ocean ... but that's a story for another day).

Last night we were watching TV, kicked back and looking at the new (as yet undecorated) tree.  I swear I saw something "jump" out of the tree out of the corner of my eye, but didn't see anything on the floor.  I had visions of a bug-infested tree in my living room, which gave rise to another phobia in my life, bugs*.  Later on we heard Boudreaux scratching around in the corner, and he knocked a porcelain bowl off a shelf.  Upon investigation, we found a HUGE grasshopper who had stowed away on the tree.  I hope that he came alone!

*Scary bug story:  when we lived in the Philippines (all four years of high school for me), we got used to cockroaches the size of small chihuahuas.  (Okay, I'm exaggerating, but you get the idea).  In high school I took English horse-back riding lessons for a while ... yes, complete with jodphurs and boots and fancy-ass helmet.  (Can I say "ass" on this blog?)  The boots were very tight, and had to be put on with "pullers" these hook-like things that you attached to loops inside the boots, with wooden handles that you then pulled with all your might to get the boot on.  Needless to say, you could NOT take the things off without help from a second person.  Well, one day I was getting ready for my lesson, and pulled my boots on.  I suddenly felt a little "flutter" in the inside bottom of one of the boots.  All the blood rushed out of my head as I realized that there was a giganto cockroach in very close quarters with my foot.  Of course, my mom was on the other side of the (very large) house, but I'm sure she and half the population of Manila heard my blood curdling scream.  I came hopping out of my room hollering like I was being eaten alive, and it was only after some heavy tugging that my mom got the boot off and shook out the perpetrator.  The thing was the granddaddy of all roaches.  (Maybe it has grown in my imagination over the years, but still!)  Ever since then, I have scrupulously inspected all footwear before putting it on.  UGH, I get sick every time I think of it.  Stay tuned ... I'll tell you the reason I have a phobia of the ocean in my next blog!