...and to all a good night
It's been a busy few weeks and while I'm happy the craziness of December will end for us after tomorrow (when scads of family will descend upon Lemony Villa to celebrate Mr. Lemony's birthday), I'm always just a little bit sad to see another Christmas pass, mostly because I like the tree and would keep it up all year if I didn't think the neighbors would think me even crazier than they already do.
I think Lemony Mutt likes the tree, too, since she's eaten through more than one branch and completely destroyed Lemony Teen's Barney the Dinosaur ornament, handmade by a family friend back in nineteen-ninety-something when the child was enthralled by the purpley weirdness of the damned thing.
Maybe the dog is smarter than I think she is.
The tree lights up the darkest corner of the family room. This makes me happy, but presents a problem to Mr. Lemony since he'd prefer we never EVER put a light on in the room he parks himself in to watch TV every night. Personally, I think it's kind of nutty to sit in the pitch black when we have electricity, but he insists. It drives me wonky crazy mad to have to find another place to sit to read when there's a perfectly good couch RIGHT THERE, but I go, because I know if I start demanding light he'll start demanding dead silence when we go to sleep, something I canNOT abide. I need the white noise of the fan. He would, too, if he could hear himself snore.
Mostly, though, the tree reminds me of the first time I understood what home means. The first time I understood what love means.
Yep, one of the most important defining moments in my life came wrapped up in the shape of a Christmas tree.
My life, it is crazy.
Peace to all.