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becke_davis
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Re: The Christmas Tree - French Fry Christmas tree

[ Edited ]
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becke_davis
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Re: The Christmas Tree - Chocolate Christmas tree

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becke_davis
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Re: The Christmas Tree - Last one, I promise!

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dulcinea3
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Re: The Christmas Tree

[ Edited ]

Wow, Queen Bee Pollenasia!  It figures that Gardenclubonia would have lots of Great Trees!  Although the fire in that first one you posted looks a bit out of control - those Stockings are going to Catch Fire at any second!

 

I believe these are of Queen Victoria, Prince Albert and their Children:

 

 

 

Ah, I had missed the Second Page, and the French Fry Tree!  Now, that would be a Perfect Addition to my Palace of Fantasia.  Of course, everyone in Wordsmithonia knows that I am Particularly Fond of French Fries!!!

 

Hungrily Yours,

Dame Dulcinea

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Grand Dame of the Land of Oz, Duchess of Fantasia, in the Kingdom of Wordsmithonia; also, Poet Laureate of the Kingdom of Wordsmithonia
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Ryan_G
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Re: The Christmas Tree

Lovely, Lovely Trees have been shared so far.  I think we should erect them all throughout the castle since we have so many rooms.  While I was walking the grounds I saw some lovely ones outside that I thought I would share.

 

 

This one I found in the hedge maze and was done by Chilly Willy, he said it reminded him of his childhood.

 

 

This I found this one outside The Museum of Fradulent Hoaxes

 

 

I thought this unique one outside The National Institute of Misshapen Skeletons.

 

"I am half sick of shadows" The Lady of Shalott

http://wordsmithonia.blogspot.com
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Peppermill
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Re: The Christmas Tree

 In recent years, I have tried to see the tree at the Metropolitan Museum of Art during the holiday season.

 

The images here can be enlarged.  Below is a bit of the history of this magnificent tree. I especially like the little censors that swing from the arms and hands of so many of the angels.

 

"Twenty-foot blue spruce with a collection of 18th-century Neapolitan angels and cherubs among its boughs and groups of realistic crèche figures flanking the Nativity scene at its base, displayed in the Museum's Medieval Sculpture Hall. Gift of Loretta Hines Howard."

"Seize the moments of happiness, love and be loved! That is the only reality in the world, all else is folly. It is the one thing we are interested in here." -- Leo Tolstoy
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debbook
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Re: Promote Safer Sex Christmas Tree

[ Edited ]

A room without books is like a body without a soul.~ Cicero...
"bookmagic418.blogspot.com
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KathyS
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Re: The Christmas Tree - Chocolate Christmas tree

This one goes in my room!
becke_davis wrote:


 

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Choisya
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Re: The Christmas Tree - Chocolate Christmas tree

All together....'O Tannenbaum!'

 

http://www.noelnoelnoel.com/leadsht/ochristmastree.html 

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becke_davis
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Re: The Christmas Tree

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becke_davis
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Re: The Christmas Tree

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becke_davis
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Re: The Christmas Tree

 

If you’re into knitting and crafts, why not knit yourself a Christmas tree? Like this big one done by about 1,000 knitters at Eden Project

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becke_davis
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Re: The Christmas Tree

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Re: The Christmas Tree

 

Last year, Singapore jeweler Soo Kee Jewellery created this Christmas tree with 21,798 diamonds totaling 913 carats and 3,762 crystal beads. The tree looked like (and was actually worth) a million bucks

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Re: The Christmas Tree

 

This is the mother of all Christmas trees: a gigantic 7-story "tree" made from 350 regular-sized artificial trees! Approximately 70 staffers of Yilong Media company of China constructed a steel framing and then stacked this pyramid of Christmas trees.

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Stephanie
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Re: The Christmas Tree

Amazing!  I'm particularly fond of the tree made of diamonds.  I loved it even when I thought the baubles were mere crystals.

Stephanie
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dulcinea3
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Re: The Christmas Tree

I love the one with the books!  Obviously that person's bookshelves are not as crammed full as mine!

 

The one made up of many trees really doesn't look all that big in proportion to the man standing in front of it.  Unless it is really at quite a distance behind him.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Grand Dame of the Land of Oz, Duchess of Fantasia, in the Kingdom of Wordsmithonia; also, Poet Laureate of the Kingdom of Wordsmithonia
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becke_davis
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Re: The Christmas Tree

I love the books. If I didn't have my photograph on here, I'd use it as a profile picture!

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Stephanie
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Story: Why Christmas Trees are Not Perfect

Why Christmas Trees Are Not Perfect


    They say if you creep into an evergreen forest late at night, you can hear the trees talking.  In the whisper of the wind you’ll catch the older pines reassuring the younger ones why they’ll never be perfectly shaped.  There will always be a bent branch here, and a gap there…
    Long, long ago evergreens were perfect, with each taking pride in branches slopping evenly from crown to symmetrical skirt.  This was particularly true in a small kingdom deep in Europe beyond the Carpathian Mountains.
    On the first Saturday of Advent, the queen’s woodsmen would search the royal evergreen forest for the most perfect tree.  It would then reign in honor in the great castle hall, shimmering with silver balls and golden angles that sparkled in the thousands of candles.  While a huge Yule log chuckled and crackled, the royal family and villagers together would dance and sing around the tree in celebration.
    Out in the hushed forest every evergreen vied for this honor, each endeavoring to grow its branches and needles to perfection.  They strained at the task, fully concentrating on their form and appearance.
    One cold night when a bright white moon glittered on the crusty snow as if it were strewn with millions of diamonds, a small rabbit limped into a grove of evergreens, its sides heaving in panic.  Beyond the hill rose the yelping of village dogs in the thrill of the hunt.  The rabbit’s eyes wild with fright, frantically searched for cover but found nothing among the dark trunks extending upwards into branches artfully lifted from the snow.  Faster and faster the cottontail circled as the excited yelping sounded louder and louder.  The trees looked annoyed at this interruption of their evening (when growing was best).
Then a small pine shuddered.  Of all the young trees, it had the promise of being the finest of the forest.  Everything about it, from its deep sea-green color to the delicate curl of its branches, was perfect.  But now…its lower branches began to dip, down, down, down to the ground.  And in that instant before the slavering dogs broke into the clearing, the rabbit found safety within the evergreen screen.
In the morning the bunny found its burrow, but the little tree could not quite lift its branches.  No matter- perhaps a little irregularity in a tree so beautiful would not be noticed.
Then a powerful blizzard came to the land.  The villagers slammed shutters closed while birds and animals huddled in nest and dens.  A small wren, blown astray, desperately sought sanctuary in the evergreens, but each one she approached clenched its branches tight like a fist.  Finally, in exhaustion, she fell into the little pine.  The pine’s heart opened and so did its branches and the wren slept within them warm and secure, but the pine had difficulty rearranging its branches.  There would be a gap, evermore.
Weeks passed and winter deepened, bringing a gale such as never before experienced in the mountains.  It caught a small fawn that had wondered from its mother.  Head down, blinded by the snow, the fawn inched into the evergreens, seeking a windbreak, but the trees held their branches open so the wind could whistle through them and avoid dangerous bending and breaking of their limbs.
Again the little pine took pity and tightly closed its branches, forming an impenetrable wall behind which the fawn huddles out of the gale, but alas, when the wind ceased, the small pine branches had been severely and permanently bent out of shape.
A tear of pine gum oozed from a branch tip.  Now it could never hope for the honor it had longed for since it was a seedling.  Lost in despair, the little pine did not see the good queen come into the forest.  She had come to choose the finest tree herself.  As her royal sleigh slowly passed through the forest, her practiced eye scanned the evergreens now preening themselves.
When she saw the little pine, a flush of anger filled her.  What right had a tree with such defects to be in her forest?  Reminding herself to have a woodsman dispose of it, she drove on, but the stopped and glanced back at it.
As she gazed on it, she noticed the tracks of small animals that had found shelter under it and a downy feather found within its branches where the bird had rested, and as she studied the gaping hole in its side and the wind whipped trunk, understanding filled her heart.  “This one,” she said.  Her attendants gasped.  To the astonishment of the forest, the little pine was borne to the great hall.  Everyone who danced and sang around it said it was the finest Christmas tree yet.  For in looking at its gnarled and worn branches, many saw the protecting arm of a father, others the comforting bosom of a mother, and some, as did the queen, saw the love of Christ expressed on earth.
So if you walk among evergreens today, you will find, along with rabbits, birds and other happy living things, dropped branches providing cover, gaps offering resting places, forms bent from wrestling winter winds.
For, as with many of us, the trees have learned that the scars suffered for the sake of others make one most beautiful in the eyes of God.

From The Gifts Of Christmas:
The Guidepost Family Christmas Book.

Stephanie
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KathyS
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Re: Story: Why Christmas Trees are Not Perfect

Thank you so much for this story, QM Stephanie.


Stephanie wrote:
Why Christmas Trees Are Not Perfect


    They say if you creep into an evergreen forest late at night, you can hear the trees talking.  In the whisper of the wind you’ll catch the older pines reassuring the younger ones why they’ll never be perfectly shaped.  There will always be a bent branch here, and a gap there…

    Long, long ago evergreens were perfect, with each taking pride in branches slopping evenly from crown to symmetrical skirt.  This was particularly true in a small kingdom deep in Europe beyond the Carpathian Mountains.


    On the first Saturday of Advent, the queen’s woodsmen would search the royal evergreen forest for the most perfect tree.  It would then reign in honor in the great castle hall, shimmering with silver balls and golden angles that sparkled in the thousands of candles.  While a huge Yule log chuckled and crackled, the royal family and villagers together would dance and sing around the tree in celebration.

    Out in the hushed forest every evergreen vied for this honor, each endeavoring to grow its branches and needles to perfection.  They strained at the task, fully concentrating on their form and appearance.

    One cold night when a bright white moon glittered on the crusty snow as if it were strewn with millions of diamonds, a small rabbit limped into a grove of evergreens, its sides heaving in panic.  Beyond the hill rose the yelping of village dogs in the thrill of the hunt.  The rabbit’s eyes wild with fright, frantically searched for cover but found nothing among the dark trunks extending upwards into branches artfully lifted from the snow.  Faster and faster the cottontail circled as the excited yelping sounded louder and louder.  The trees looked annoyed at this interruption of their evening (when growing was best).


Then a small pine shuddered.  Of all the young trees, it had the promise of being the finest of the forest.  Everything about it, from its deep sea-green color to the delicate curl of its branches, was perfect.  But now…its lower branches began to dip, down, down, down to the ground.  And in that instant before the slavering dogs broke into the clearing, the rabbit found safety within the evergreen screen.


In the morning the bunny found its burrow, but the little tree could not quite lift its branches.  No matter- perhaps a little irregularity in a tree so beautiful would not be noticed.


Then a powerful blizzard came to the land.  The villagers slammed shutters closed while birds and animals huddled in nest and dens.  A small wren, blown astray, desperately sought sanctuary in the evergreens, but each one she approached clenched its branches tight like a fist.  Finally, in exhaustion, she fell into the little pine.  The pine’s heart opened and so did its branches and the wren slept within them warm and secure, but the pine had difficulty rearranging its branches.  There would be a gap, evermore.


Weeks passed and winter deepened, bringing a gale such as never before experienced in the mountains.  It caught a small fawn that had wandered from its mother.  Head down, blinded by the snow, the fawn inched into the evergreens, seeking a windbreak, but the trees held their branches open so the wind could whistle through them and avoid dangerous bending and breaking of their limbs.

Again the little pine took pity and tightly closed its branches, forming an impenetrable wall behind which the fawn huddles out of the gale, but alas, when the wind ceased, the small pine branches had been severely and permanently bent out of shape.

A tear of pine gum oozed from a branch tip.  Now it could never hope for the honor it had longed for since it was a seedling.  Lost in despair, the little pine did not see the good queen come into the forest.  She had come to choose the finest tree herself.  As her royal sleigh slowly passed through the forest, her practiced eye scanned the evergreens now preening themselves.


When she saw the little pine, a flush of anger filled her.  What right had a tree with such defects to be in her forest?  Reminding herself to have a woodsman dispose of it, she drove on, but then stopped and glanced back at it.


As she gazed on it, she noticed the tracks of small animals that had found shelter under it and a downy feather found within its branches where the bird had rested, and as she studied the gaping hole in its side and the wind whipped trunk, understanding filled her heart.  “This one,” she said.  Her attendants gasped.  To the astonishment of the forest, the little pine was borne to the great hall.  Everyone who danced and sang around it said it was the finest Christmas tree yet.  For in looking at its gnarled and worn branches, many saw the protecting arm of a father, others the comforting bosom of a mother, and some, as did the queen, saw the love of Christ expressed on earth.


So if you walk among evergreens today, you will find, along with rabbits, birds and other happy living things, dropped branches providing cover, gaps offering resting places, forms bent from wrestling winter winds.
For, as with many of us, the trees have learned that the scars suffered for the sake of others make one most beautiful in the eyes of God.

From The Gifts Of Christmas:
The Guidepost Family Christmas Book.