Fairies and dragons and bears oh my....

If they'd been equipped with little hammers they'd have been clobbering me over the head for days now.
Not that I'd have noticed as apparently I am dense. VERY dense.
It might be a Canadian thing, a certain amount of hereditary cultural denseness that makes us all withstand winter after winter after..oh look MORE snow.
I have been moaning about the lack of tree decorating that has happened here, well as much as I moan. It's more like I have been remarking on a daily basis that I am surprised the earth has not spun off it's axis and crashed into the moon because I have not put any decorations on my lovely, but bare, pre-lit Christmas tree.
I have an excuse though. My husband has written me a note explaining to any one who dares question my lack of Christmas spirit, that we have both been up to our holly jolly ears in work. Apparently his clients don't care if our tree is decorated or not and still expect their websites when they're due...go figure, and I apparently am addicted to Etsy. It's just that every time I sell an item on there the people, just like my husband's clients, expect me to actually SEND them their item.
And then I feel inspired and thrilled and craftiness is practically spewing from my fingertips as I create character after character to re-supply my store. The crafty circle of life keeps a spinning and the tree is giving me a guilt complex.
On top of the business, which we very very much appreciate, I have had the audacity to enjoy my cozy, in front of the fireplace, meals with my husband rather than lugging ornaments upstairs for the tree.
But again, as I sculpt a Westie dog ornament, a shimmery blue Elfsicle and glittery eyed dragon ornaments, I mutter about how I just can NOT believe that I have not decorated the tree yet, so much so that even the cats are going "Come ON already, we get it. Bare tree, ok, shaddup."
I have several places I store the items I make, one of them is to the left of my desk. A metal wire shelf unit thing-a-ma-jig that houses our printers and batteries and most of my hanging ornaments.
To the right of my desk is our Christmas tree.
The universe could not have been any more obvious than if it had emailed me a detailed plan of action....and yet...I was blinded by Etsy lust and taco salad evenings watching the final episodes of Star Gate.
Until tonight.
You may have felt that shift in the universe, that subtle tingling along your extremities that means the slowly spiraling out of control earth, because it all revolves around my actions or in this case non-actions, was pulled back into it's regularly scheduled alignment.
Swear to Gawwwwwwwwwwd, after almost 2 weeks of a naked tree I was suddenly struck by an idea so simple and obvious and beautiful that it must have been some sort of divine intervention. It sparked to life like a match, flaring and building until I was so shocked by the obviousness I could no longer sit still. I hopped from my seat and stared at the tree.
Funny thing about instantaneous moments of sheer genius, they are hard to recollect after the moment passes. Alan and I can't remember who exactly said the idea first, he or me? Not that it matters, except it lends proof to the notion this idea just grew on it's own with no help from he or me at all.
Handmade, lovingly crafted ornaments sculpted by yours Truly hanging to the left of my desk, giant naked Christmas tree to the right....
And just like two atoms colliding there was a burst of pure radiant thought so clear and bright I am sure it illuminated the room. My husband and I basked in the radiance for only a minute before succumbing to the giddy delight of decorating our Christmas tree.
With all the handmade ornaments I had hanging to the left of my desk, moving them exactly 9 feet from the left to the right.
It was a beautiful moment, and perhaps just maybe the reason why it seemed so impossible to take the cache of regular Christmas ornaments stored in the garage up stairs.
Sometimes the universe confuses me, it makes me cut my finger on the cat food lid, spill my water on the remote controllers, sprinkle coffee beans around the kitchen with spazz-ing fingers all willy nilly as if I am the coffee bean fairy. Sometimes it causes coat hangers to damn near spit in my face defying my will and mocking me with their simple yet secretly evil existence. The universe has me trip on non-existent rocks in the middle of the living room floor and maneuver me in line behind strange people at the stores so I can fully experience their weirdness. The universe and me have a tempestuous relationship.
But I am thinking I now need to find a Christmas gift for it, as it has provided me with this simple but brilliant holiday tree decorating solution.
Now what does one get the Universe that equates to moving ornaments 9 feet?
Do you think it would like a scarf?