As I began to look at the pictures for this post I realized I had not taken a picture of my Christmas tree after I put the ornaments on. I took a picture of it with the lights, but not the next day when I put the other decorations on. Well, too late now!
I always reserve the right, I say, to leave the tree up till "old Christmas" which falls on January 6. It's not that I celebrate old Christmas--it's just that I don't want to be pressured to take the tree down before I can get around to it at my own pace.
I no longer had an excuse, and I managed to muster up enough inertia to get the ornaments and lights off. I decided I might as well burn the carcass, too.
While I was trying to get the fire going, I heard darling son slam his truck door--home from work early perhaps because of the drizzle or no calls at work. I started to go inside to say hello, but I decided I would just wait a bit. While I had turned to get more materials for the fire, he slipped up behind me.
He had only come by to say goodbye and be off again. I tried to hold him just a few minutes, "to connect," I said. "Connect??" he said.
"Well, throw another log on the fire and tell me why you're leaving me."
He's easy going enough to let me tell him a corny joke or two and listen to me tell him a couple of things he needs to do and to offer to feed him even though we both know those few minutes are for my benefit and not his. He knows, doesn't he, that he'll always be my baby.