Merry
Christmas, Happy Hanukah and New Year, and all the holidays in between and
after.
There’s still
way too much to do before any of the holidays can arrive. Was it Noel Coward who said “Christmas now
has us by the throat?” Well he should know—since he’s named for the Christmas
holiday. As for me, I’m just in a mild panic. The presents aren’t ordered, the
cards not yet sent and our Christmas tree is not yet up or decorated. If I were
Santa’s elf I’d be on overtime or maybe out of a job.
At least we
have a wreath on our door. If we can get the outside lights up no one will be
the wiser we’re so far behind. So this year we are multi-tasking: I’ve
started this Christmas note while my intrepid spouse is looking for the timer
for the outside lights.
Real
Time Report: Was that Santa rushing by with
presents as I typed? No, that was my husband. He was in the attic looking for the timer.
Usually I report on the holly berries I can
see from the window of my office. That is, in those years when we’ve not yet had
cold and snowy weather. Once real winter arrives the birds eat all the berries.
I could try to make some climate change point that the weather must be warmer
this year since the birds haven’t eaten the berries yet.
Real
Time Report: Now my spouse is back from
the basement, grumbling about things not being put in their place. And then he’s dashing by to check the
garage. No timer in the garage.
Instead I’m going to report on the
astronomical growth of our blue spruce in the front yard. I don’t have any idea
what that means as far as climate change. But I do have some idea of the
practical implications for putting Christmas lights on a tree that has grown to
be almost as tall as our two-story house.
Every year, for the past twenty-two, we
have strung little colored lights on the blue spruce in the front yard. When we first moved to this house the spruce
was about ten feet tall. My husband
could easily toss a few lights around the spruce without any help and it looked fine.
Now that damn spruce is nearly two stories
high and twenty feet across. So why are
we still doing it? First, there’s the
satisfaction of knowing we’ve nicely decorated our front yard.
Real
Time Report: As we string the lights I
discover my job also was supposed to include separating the polarized strands
from the non-polarized strands.
Oops—need to unstring the last few strands.
Real
Time Report: We’re halfway there. Time for the ladder. And maybe another hot toddy break.
Each year after we get the lights on we feel
that wonderful sense of accomplishment.
Yeah, right. Stringing this tree
is more like a recipe for disaster than for a hot toddy. Half the time the lights don’t work, the
ladder isn’t tall enough and the jerry-rigged extension pole doesn’t extend
like it should to reach those top branches.
Real
Time Report: All that’s left is to flip
the switch. Fingers crossed. Good thing it’s getting dark. The better to be wowed by the lights. And . . . we are. Yippee!
They’re all lit! Until we turn
away. When we turn back only the very
bottom lights are lit. Argh!
Tomorrow
we’ll try to diagnose what’s wrong. For
now I’ll close by saying we’ve had a good year, and been
healthy, happy, and lucky enough to see our family and friends, though not as
often as we would like. Best wishes for a happy, healthy and great
holiday season.
Don’t forget
to drink your hot toddy. It help s mellow out that Christmas decorating experience.
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