Wednesday, November 28, 2007
God Rest Me Merry Gentlemen
God rest me merry gentlemen, let nothing me dismay
for I got out the Christmas stuff, and trimmed the tree today.
Yes, Virginia, there is a Santa Claus and he’s gonna be happy with me. ‘Cause I was a very good girl. I did it. I surpassed my personal best. My halls are decked, the candles are glowing, and even though every single friggin’ muscle in my body hurts and I have enough dust mites up my nose to populate a parallel universe, I, the most Holly Jolly of girls south of the North Pole, finished decorating the house… and its only November 26th.
It was a particular challenge to liberate the tree from the over-junked up garage this year, since I have a whole lot of my mother’s things out there as well as a bunch of Danny’s Free geek computer parts. Some books and bric-a-brac, clothes, furniture the girls said they wanted, but forgot to come and get. That sort of thing. It’s crowded and nasty with barely room for my car.
When I got up the nerve to go out there, I could see the tree box under piles of junk and since I was resolved to get it up before Danny’s mom and sister come for their annual pre-Christmas visit this Friday, I bravely started tossing things and digging my way into the box.
I even, (are you listening Santa?), ignored the possibly lethal black spider that I saw climb into the box after I accidentally bumped her web with my shoe. I didn’t even try to search and destroy her. That should get me ‘brownie’ points with Santa or at least with the arachnid lovers and take care of at least one piece of coal that wanted to make its way into my stocking hung by the chimney with care. Yep, I reached into the tree box and said a prayer to the Christmas angel that Ananzi wouldn’t bite or even worse climb in my hair and hauled the tree (which probably weighs as much as I do) upright, hugging it like a polar bear hugs, well whatever polar bears hug, all the way to the kitchen door.
I wish I hadn’t stopped lifting weights last year. New years resolution: start working out again or just give up and lock the home gym door (which has a wall tree decorated with hand carved woodland ornaments) forever.
Anyway, back to my story: the big fat tree got stuck in the door frame. Being Nancy the impatient by nature, I just kept hugging the damn thing and yanking until it popped through the door. Then I propped it up in the tree stand that I’d carefully placed
placed in the corner of the family room. The tree stand promptly fell over, and I had to start over. It seemed even heavier than before. I finally leaned it against the wall and plugged in one of the light strands, which of course did not light up.
Tree trimming 101: even when you don’t get your tree stuck in the kitchen door, the lights never work from the year before. If you’re lucky, you didn’t plug them together right. If you’re not lucky, you have to buy more which won’t work next year.
The tree has a dozen strands of lights with lettered plugs which all have to be plugged into themselves in the right order. I can read the numbers, but it is boring, confusing, and uncreative to sort the plugs out, so I did the sensible thing and waited for Danny to come home and do it. He’s patient and works for cookies.
So as to not waste any time while I waited, I rearranged furniture in two rooms and created party invitations. Oh, and by the way, all my cards and Christmas letters are done and ready to mail. Do you hate me yet?
Be careful, before you answer, I’m the one who knows all the verses of Silent Night…in Spanish…I can recite most of the Grinch Who Stole Christmas without half trying…and I can carve the roast beast if you need it. Somebody has to be Christmas crazy. Santa would approve.