I’ve gotten in trouble with one of my sisters in years past for taking my Christmas trees down too soon. We went drastic this year and eliminated
the tree entirely. Francie doesn’t know this, and the other sisters and brother are sworn to secrecy.

One Christmas I enlisted the help of some strong members of the family and we hauled the tree out the sunroom window on Christmas afternoon. For a couple of years now I have blamed the lack of a Christmas tree on our cats. The tree ban came as the cats got older and lost most of their good sense.

Plus, one of the cats in November of just this year ate some tinsel from a mere birthday decoration. There is also hard evidence against having any dry vegetation in the house after a $2,000 veterinary bill. One of the cats ate dried eucalyptus leaves. This cat gives a thumbs up to lunch on crumbly leaves and tree needles.

Christian tradition says that the tree should stay up until Twelfth Night (which is Jan. 5) because it lights the way for the Three Wise Men, or Magi.  My mother said witches were coming for it if she saw a tree up after the middle of January. Truth is Christmas trees can be traced back to pagan observances to light up the dark winter.

I went to a book club meeting decades ago at the end of January, and the home of our hostess was still all set up with Christmas decorations, including a fully decorated tree. I was aghast. I just finished reading the December issue of the Martha Stewart Living magazine. Martha’s right-hand person, Kevin Sharkey, was featured as he decorated his otherwise minimalistic New York City apartment for Christmas. He used  gold, silver, pearls and clear glass ornaments. When completed, his tree looked like it had come through a snow and ice storm dripping in the sun.

We have a three-generation household here, so my daughter Marcy has as much to say about a tree as I do. I thought we were in accord about the
lack of a tree until she stood in the middle of the living room one recent Sunday afternoon and told me what she thought. Waving her hand elegantly
across the room like a mirthless Texas beauty queen, she said “Christmas? What Christmas?”

Shamefaced, I rallied and dug into my storage bin of Christmases past. I brought out a purple table runner I quilted several years ago and four red glass candle holders with battery operated candles. I even made sure they were shining every night at dinner.

All this said, I can make Christmas disappear in less than an hour. This will include the tiny faux tree Marcy bought at a big box store. This is where I shine. I’m good at moving on to the next holidays. What will those be? New Year’s and Valentine’s days?

Since no trees are involved with either, I’m good to go.

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