Muffy and Spencer: Spirit Bear

Some of you may recall the way this blog started. It was on a road trip. Somewhere between Van Horn and San Antonio, Texas, I stared out the window at the desert long enough to think up this idea of not buying clothes for a whole year.

Well, I'm here to tell you that I don't just pick up crazy ideas on our southwestern road trips. I pick up other things, too.

One time it was a Date Shake in Dateland. Another time it was $40 at the Golden Acorn Casino.

But Date Shakes and $40 are fleeting things in this life, my friend. I say to you, nay, it will not be long after acquiring such things before neither one are still in your possession.

Only one purchase on that long stretch of road between San Diego and Houston remains with us: The Spirit Bear.

So this little guy is extra awesomely ugly at 3 in the morning hanging at a truck stop register. In the middle of a freezing cold night in Arizona, a Christmas ornament begged to come home with us. We couldn't say no.

What is he? A lion? A bear? A cat? And are those little balls supposed to be M&Ms? The Spirit Bear remains mysterious, a hand-hewn clay figurine that looks like a Ringling Bros cookie gone awry. His name was lifted off some Steven Seagal movie trailer we saw around the same time, and you must say it the way Brendon does, with a lispy whisper, "Sssssssssssssssspirit Bear."

Anyway, we brought out the little box containing our Christmas stuff and found him in there. The Spirit Bear survived in the move, and he properly represents our attempts at most things in this little house: a little self-mocking, not always attractive, but totally affectionate.

Neighbor's decorations=fancy. Ours in the window=um...simple and elegant. Yeah!

And now we have a tree. We've graduated from a little rosemary in a pot to a, well, a little Christmas tree in a pot. Brendon turned up his nose at the trees we saw first on Sunday, not feeling comfortable until we came across the Montana Fresh folks over at the Catholic church down the road. There was a great, close-knit feeling there, making Brendon feel much better than in previous tree lots. He deliberated over several varieties and ultimately fell in love with this little guy after much inspection.

Too Big

Too Full

Juuuuuust Right

They told us about the tradition they encourage among tree shoppers (and by the way, they're selling trees to the children of those to whom they first sold, 40 years ago. Adorable.)

But yeah, the Tradition: They slice a little piece off the trunk, and you turn it into an ornament, marking the year on it & hanging it on your tree.

Ours was laughably small, but the lady in the sweet Santa sweatshirt hugged us and congratulated us on our first married Christmas. She didn't think our new ornament was too small at all, and she insisted we each have a candy cane from the basket by the register.

Of course this made us buy a wreath, too.

We put the tree up and decorated it while listening to Elvis Christmas, giggling over the Spirit Bear and enjoying that damn red wall for the first time since we moved in.