With all the time inside this weekend I put Christmas away. My Balsam Fir Christmas tree dropped about four dust pans worth of needles on its way out the window. Yes, window, not door. My son-in-law Bill seems to find particular enjoyment seeing Christmas trees exit out second-story windows! When I lived on Lake Avenue, I went down the stairs and outside to "spot" the tree and to make sure no pedestrians were nearby as he sent that Christmas tree flying out my apartment window. I located myself directly under the window and against the house, not prepared for the 300 or so pine needles I was showered with. I had pine needles in all of my clothes, between and under layers. I itch just thinking about it. It was not comfortable.
I guess there are practical reasons for Bill's propensity to toss evergreens from second stories: far fewer prickly needles get stuck in carpet this way, and it is quick. When this season's tree took its dive, I looked out the window as if to see a body in chalk lines laying on the pavement. Instead, I saw a still perfect looking tree, the snow-covered ground around it confettied with pine needles. It was all very peaceful and pretty, in a sad kind of way. It forced me to acknowledge that Christmas is indeed over, and all that makes this season so beautiful has been stripped from my abode. My apartment looks almost antiseptic now that the glitter of the season has been removed.
Nothing ever looks quite so plain as a room once the holiday decorations have been put away. How much winter is left? I'm thinking palm trees...
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