As you enter our house, there is a small mudroom. The floor is raised slightly above the adjoining living room and, on the left, there is an alcove with one large, single window that opens onto the road leading up to our house. It’s the first thing visitors see as they arrive.
If you come in December, it will also smell like pine. It’s the first place in our house where you’ll find a Christmas tree. It’s not the only one.
I’ve collected Christmas ornaments since I was a girl. It’s my tactile memory keeping project where each ornament connects back to a memory or significant event from my past. Each tree lets me explore those memories further.
This entryway tree used to be the one my girls decorated when they were younger. It wasn’t an attempt to engage them and allow them personal expression. It was far more selfish. I didn’t want them touching my tree. I invested fully in the ruse, picking out ornaments that matched their passions at the time. I still have two bins worth of ornaments hoping to find a new home some day with the grandchildren.