... here consists of getting out the wreath and hanging it on the light fixture by the front door. I have to get the ladder to be able to reach the metal arm of the fixture, then unscrew the light bulb before I turn on the light. There is a string of tiny little clear lights in the wreath, so that plugs into a socket in the base of the outdoor light. Flip the light switch to on and volia: Christmas is here!
When daughters left home, only to come back seasonally, they expected all the frou-frou they had seen since the age of awareness dawned. But I had already been tired of dragging it out of the attic, unpacking boxes, putting things together, taking things apart, finding the right box to make it all fit, forcing back into attic. I just quit. Then they said: 'What? No tree? Where are the decoratings?' To which I responded: 'When you come and put it all out, and come back and take it all apart, there will be a tree.'
So here we are: No tree, no tinsel, no blinking lights, no ornaments, no festive greenery. Just the wreath, plugged into the light fixture to let people know the Grinch does not live here. That's it for me.
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