What a wild night we had! A massive wind and rain storm flung itself at the coast, whipping at windows, howling through trees. It's still dark outside, so I have no idea what damage we've incurred. But the paper says trees are down all over the region, 100,000 households are without power, snapped power lines have sparked fires in the West End . . .

We were lucky, though: everyone safe at home; house snug and warm; chili for dinner and a Christmas tree to decorate. Our power never even flickered. Tom shimmed up the sagging tree, Paul draped the lights, and we all hung ornaments . . . those familiar, shabby ornaments: a family story, retold year upon year.

Paul took a photo of the finished product and sent it to James, who libeled our tree as a "Christmas hedge." Still, that's an accurate description of this ridiculous bush looming among the books. The tweaky little point on her head is especially comical. But she's ours, and we love her anyway.