Winter Night

I undecorated the tree today. I really hate to do it, but Bob hates to do it too and I thought if he were willing to shovel the driveway in subzero windchill temperatures, I could undecorate the tree. He had been thinking the same thing. As is customary, our driveway is the cleanest in the neighborhood, in part due to Bob being full on A Type personality and his being married to that crazy Yankee woman who thinks such an excercise is necessary. I think the neighbors must think we are odd since very few of them attempt shoveling, ever. Apparently, in East Tennessee, it's just not done.

Back to the tree. I removed the ornaments carefully and methodically as to protect the fragile ones and hide the ugly ones, so that next year, the ones I like best would be front and center. I was thinking how lovely the fragrance was as I unhooked the ornaments, the tree giving its gift one more time before finding its place next to last year's tree in the backyard woods. A perfect specimen, lovingly chosen from Cartner's Choose and Cut Tree Farm, this had been a North Carolina beauty, sparkling from within due to my careful placement of the white twinkle lights (a la Martha Stewart).

Unfortunately, as I was waxing nostalgic over the majesty of the Frasier Fir, I pulled the wrong end of the lights and knotted them into a mess even Clark Griswold would have given up on. Bob helped me pull them apart, but alas, they did not survive the ordeal. Instead of one string with a dead section, I now had three. My husband, ever the problem solver, placed the following reminder on his computer calendar for November 19, 2010: Buy new Christmas Lights.

I've done all the undecorating I can stand for today. Tomorrow will do. Tonight I am listening to Kate Rusby's "Miner's Dream of Home", Gordon Lightfoot's "Song for a Winter Night", and Sting's "The Snows they Melt the Soonest". All perfect for a snow covered winter night.