I refuse to pull everything out of the storage closet this year, so I just lifted down the front door wreath and the small artificial tree and put them up. The wreath looks fine as is, just needed a little fluffing of the artificial needles and metallic bow and ribbons, and the tree looks fine with only two strings of twinkling white lights on it.
I didn’t unpack the boxes with all the little musical angels and other ornaments. I moved the little secretary desk over to center it in the sunroom windows and put the tree on that, with the old red and white tree skirt under it and a red knit scarf wound around the base to hide the tree stand. From outside you can see the lights fine, and I am leaving them burning day and night – when I am here, that is.
I thought Misty might like to look at the tree, but she doesn’t pay it any attention this year. She did sit and stare at it one year, when it was on a tabletop in the center of the room near the recliner.
Of course, that year it had dozens and dozens of ornaments on it too, in addition to multiple strings of lights. Maybe the shiny balls caught her eye that year.
Misty has always had an aversion to the outdoors, however, and has never spent much time near the windows in the sunroom. Maybe that’s it. Occasionally she goes into that room, leaps up to the rocking chair seat and makes a round of sniffs – throw pillows and chair arms – but then she hops down and softly trots back into the living room to curl up on the sofa or armchair, her usual habitats.
Since I’m the only one who will see it, I don’t see much point in displaying all the other Christmas stuff I have acquired through the years, and there is a lot of it.
Figurines, nativity scene with Mary, Joseph and baby Jesus in the manger, neatly set into a hand-made stable (made by me when my children were small), plus accompanying sheep, camels, doves, angels, shepherds and wise men.
Then there are several versions of angels and historic Saint Nicholas figures. Greenery. Bows. Candles. Colored lights. Right now they remain safe and secure in their various boxes on various shelves behind various other things in the storage room.
Maybe next weekend I’ll change my mind, but for now the wreath and tree are enough for me, and I enjoy sitting in my armchair with a who-done-it, the television tuned to one of the new or old classic Christmas movies, feet propped up on the ottoman. I can sip hot coffee or cocoa and let the twinkling lights soothe me, and they actually do.