I was at my brother and sister-in-law’s yesterday as they took down the autumn decorations and hauled the Christmas boxes out of the crawl-space. They first bought the house from what my mom calls “some dead guy”–but what she really means is that the previous owner pretty much left the house and all his belongings intact. Now, nearly 2 years later, they are still finding his things, even after practically gutting the house to make it their own.
Apparently they had a Christmas tree in the crawl-space that had been left and asked if I wanted it. Sandy and I had discussed the possibility of a tree, acknowledging that Lynn’s 3-foot tree from last year really did make a difference in our spirits come finals time. This, of course, meant that we’d have to find and actually spend money on a tree. So when a free one was offered I said yes! But was then told it was over 7 feet tall. Well, no then…
But then I thought about it more and realized that Christmas comes only once a year and even if it involved having to step around the tree for a month or so it should have a home in our apartment.
In case you were wondering, that was me putting up my first fake tree as I lastfm-ed a “holiday” station. Not that it was difficult (thank goodness the deadguy left the instructions) but I wanted to complete it before Sandy could come home and tell me no. Now she’s just going to have to live with it. And with each step she takes to avoid it in our tiny flat she will give thanks for the Christmas cheer it brings!