As the first weekend of December brings cold, wintry weather to D.C. tomorrow, we will be ensconced in the Burrow playing our annual version of Twister — right hand, beer; left foot, hallway; left hand, ornament; right foot, kitchen — as we try to squeeze just one more guest into our annual tree-trimming party.

Which means, of course, that today will be spent running around like crazy with trips out to Virginia for a tree (we found a nice tree farm last year that we really liked) and a few more party supplies and around D.C. to take advantage of the last few days of tax-free clothes shopping (don’t you think Rudi’s grandmother would like a nice warm sweater?). Then tonight will be spent cleaning (haven’t we been cleaning for, like, the last two months?) and doing some overnight prep work (or not, as will probably be the case).

We always have a lot of fun at these parties, even though I no longer have college interns to invite to trim a tree away from home. It’s enjoyable to have our friends come to visit — which makes all the prep work well worth the effort — but it would be so much easier if I were the sort of person who kept a tidy house. As I am not (nor is Rudi), the day before any event like this is always frantic. Rudi likes to believe this is because the Burrow is too small, but I well remember the days back in our spacious flat in Middletown where we had more than enough room and still had to resort to throwing things into rooms and closing the doors.

Regardless, I like to believe that our friends come more to see us than to see an immaculate apartment, so if there are still a few things lying about come tomorrow at 3, I won’t break down into tears. Because I will be surrounded by Rudi, our cats, friends, good food, and a sparkly Christmas tree, all the rest will just be details.