The story is...
I have a crawl space in attic. My Christmas bins were up there. I pulled the stairs down and know that my weight capacity is probably the maximum that puney little ladder can hold. I climbed the ladder shaking the whole way up there. I shined my flashlight, hoping a mouse-squirrel-chipmunk-raccoon would not come charging at me. (another story for another day) I was upset that the Christmas stuff was up there, while bins that "we" don't use are in the garage. I cursed and said a few choice words under my breathe to relieve "me Irish temper".
I was able to physcially reach only two bins. One of them had all my party stuff in it, just like Mom use to keep her party supplies seperate. The other bin had some JOMIII Irish ornaments and large balls.
I started to decorate and became very sad, depressed and missing my Mom. I only put a few balls on the tree and then used ribbon, instead of tinsle to decorate.
I love the tree stand. It holds quite a bit of water and is very sturdy. I mostly love the smell and look of a live tree.
