O Christmas tree, O Christmas tree
It is my desire to have this house packed away and under control by Thanksgiving. Shortly after that, I need to have some surgery done, and I won't be able to lift and heave for a few weeks. Which brings me, three weeks before Hallowe'en, to the problem of where to put a Christmas tree.
There is no room. Anywhere. We barely fit into this house as it is. There isn't a spare square of flooring anywhere to put up a tree, except
in the garage. There's some space there. I could put up a big trestle table for family dining and parties and decorate a tree, put down some kind of rug, sure. But we're still talking about decorating . . . the garage. Alternatively, I could put the tree up, with lights only, on the front porch. That would be kind of Christmassy.
I love Christmas, but I'm just not feeling the need to decorate. Nor do I see how we could, really. Maybe a wreath on the door, a Santa hat on the big bear. That may be about it, unless inspiration strikes in a big way in the next two months.
Ho, ho, ho. Get a life, Santa.