It’s been a while since I bothered to decorate my place for Christmas.
I never really saw much point. I’m not really the best hostess in the world, so a lot of people don’t drop by for a visit. And, in the past, I’ve never really spent a lot of time around the house, always going to others’ homes and enjoying their decorations.
This year, I made a decision. Christmas is going to be the way I want it to be.
So I went to Wal-Mart to shop for a tree. I saw one for 30 bucks. Three-feet tall. Figured that would be about perfect for my cozy little apartment.
I got it home and pulled it out of the box. I laughed, supposing I should have read the box before I dragged it around the store and then home. The end of each branch has fibre optic strands, so I plug it in and voila, instant lights! Oh and it also has its own glass balls scattered around the branches.
I thought, ‘man, Mom would love this tree!’
I’ve grown quite used to it … although the white star I bought back in Newfoundland seems a little big, maybe too top-heavy. Kinda like me.
And I’ve taken my mini lights and strung them around my windows and a stocking is hung from the window sill with a modicum of care.
So I’ve done it for me to enjoy … not for anyone else. It feels good that way.
I think, however, Shep’s jury is still out on the decision: