Those of you who know me (and, I suspect by now those who don't will have realised) also know that I am not a Christmas person and the one and only time I had a Christmas tree was when Friend Who Knows Too Much said she would only bring The Girls (her two wonderful daughters) if I put up a tree. So I did. I also put three sets of lights on it (it was a reasonably sized tree) and plenty of decorations. About half an hour before they were due the first set of lights went out and then the second. I can't recall if the third managed to survive. Anyway none of the spare bulbs I had would fit any of the sets on the tree and they were all different from each other so I couldn't even pinch from one to mend another. So the tree sat there in a shadow of what should have been its glory. That was the last time.
Actually no. That's not correct. The first Christmas I spent in New Zealand Catriona was only just 5. She made me a tree. Each year that tree has come out and, with the aid of Blutac, has been on display:
Now that's my kind of tree: lots of love and memories.