The tree is up, crooked in a way we have decided is charming. Ben cut an inch off the bottom on Saturday under the carport, and Lila supervised with a mug of cocoa and very specific instructions about which side should face the window. Now it stands in the corner of the living room smelling like a forest, with a slight lean toward the hallway that nobody has the heart to fix.
Every December I go through the same small reckoning. Our whole Christmas budget, gifts and decorations together, is about $350. That is a number we picked a few years ago and have stuck to, and it means decorations get a modest slice. Here is how we make it stretch, and what the house looks like on it.
Where the money actually goes
This year, decorating comes to roughly $70 of the $350. The rest goes to gifts for Lila, the grandparents, a few teachers and a couple of friends.
| Item | Cost |
|---|---|
| Live tree from a church lot | $45 |
| Replacement strand of warm white lights | $12 |
| Ribbon, a spool of red velvet | $6 |
| Oranges for drying, cranberries and popcorn kernels | $7 |
That is it. Everything else comes out of two plastic bins in the shed or from the yard.
What we reuse every year
The two bins hold most of our Christmas. Opening them is half the fun of the season for me. There are the ornaments Ben and I bought on our first Christmas in the Columbia apartment, a glass pickle from his mother, a stocking with Lila's name in glitter glue from her preschool year, and a felt beagle that someone made for us the year we got Pepper.
A few habits keep the bins useful:
- Lights tested before they go up. One strand failed this year, which is why there is a new one on the list. The rest I check on the living room floor before anyone climbs a stepstool.
- Everything wrapped in tissue when it comes down. A little care in January means fewer broken ornaments next December.
- A list taped inside each lid. What is in it, what broke, what we wished we had. It keeps me from buying duplicates.
What we make
Dried orange garland
Slice oranges about a quarter inch thick, pat them dry, and bake on racks at 200 degrees for three to four hours, flipping every hour. Thread them on kitchen twine with a few cinnamon sticks if you have them. Our kitchen smelled wonderful all Sunday afternoon, and the slices glow like stained glass when the tree lights are on.
Popcorn and cranberry strands
This is Lila's job, with help. A needle, sturdy thread, day-old popcorn and fresh cranberries. She is six and loses interest after about two feet, so the strands are short and plentiful. They go on the outside porch rail at the end of the season for the birds.
Greenery from the yard
We do not have much evergreen, but there is magnolia in a neighbor's yard that she has generously told us to prune, and some holly by the shed. A few cut branches along the mantel and in a crock by the front door make the house feel dressed for almost nothing. They last two or three weeks if I mist them.
What I have stopped doing
I used to buy a new decorative something every year, a wreath or a set of matching ornaments that would supposedly pull the room together. Most of them ended up in the bins and rarely came out. I have also stopped decorating every room. The living room, the front door and the kitchen table get attention. The bedrooms and hallway get nothing, and nobody has noticed.
One unexpected bonus: we had the attic insulation topped up in November, and the living room no longer has that cold draft along the floor by the windows. The tree sits nearer the window than it used to, and the ornaments do not fog up in the mornings anymore. It is a strange thing to feel festive about, but I do.
Tonight, after supper, we turned off every lamp and sat on the floor with only the tree lights on, Pepper sprawled across Ben's feet and Lila naming each ornament out loud as if introducing us to old friends. The tree leaned. The orange slices glowed. It cost very little, and it was exactly right.
