One Red Feather Christmas Tree, Four Bins and The Four Agreements

I am attempting to simplify my life, Christmas included.
So this year I put a fraction of my Christmas decorations out,  set some aside for our camp and I am giving the rest (of my secret addiction) away.
It is a process I do not take lightly, considering I may have been using Christmas decorations to self medicate. (more on that later)
Last weekend, I took some carefully selected decorations with me to the camp.
Before getting there, we stopped at my in-laws to say hello.
My MIL's home was decorated so-very-beautifully for Christmas.
Just lovely--as my MIL has really good taste.

Previously, she had asked me if I minded if she decorated a little bit for me at our hunting place.
I told her, "sure!"
I was confident that I would love whatever she did, plus, I was lazy to do it myself.
I was surprised  when I arrived at the property and was greeted by a rather u-g-l-y  red feather Christmas tree, and a few other items (not photographed) that I never knew she had.
(even Pax was assaulted)
Cautiously, I asked Steve if the tree and its companions had any sentimental value, or significance to his life.
He said he had never seen them before.
I did not like it.
Suddenly, a range of emotions came over me and
I went against "The Four Agreements."

So I took everything down and started redecorating with the things I brought with me.

Truly there is value in occupational therapy because four large empty bins later,
I felt my anti-agreement sentiments melting away.
I realized while decorating, that it was my ego that was choosing the negative thoughts that I had.
I am betting that there is a story behind some of those things she thought I would enjoy.
So I incorporated them back into my holiday display (for now).
I decided to see my MIL's bequeathing of a funky feather Christmas tree to me as a compliment.
She knows that she has an unconventional daughter-in-law that insists on choosing the crappiest Christmas trees:

and transforming them into beautiful backdrops to the story of Jesus' birth.

And so in honor of her honoring the quirky in me, I am keeping the vintage red feather table top christmas tree.
However, she does not know this  (and she does not read this blog) but some of the other stuff may have to go--
after all in the spirit of simplifying, sometimes less is more.
And, I don't need to self-medicate anymore  (for now).