What goes up...

Baseballs, arrows, hemlines, the stock market... it's not like we don't all know the rest of it. Once up, it's meant to come down.

The same applies to Christmas decorations.

We were in England last year for Christmas, so I did, essentially, nothing for the holiday at home. This year, with both sets of sons and wives to be here, I wanted to do it up right. We bought a new tree, one of the pre-lit models. It was skinny and fit into the space we have for it very nicely. I lusted over a garland to go over the stair rails but balked at paying the catalog price. A neighbor shopped with me to buy the raw material from a craft store and then helped me adorn the stairs. They looked great. I used my vintage linens to advantage and we hosted a party to show it all off, too.

And by December 26, I was sick of it.

Yes, I know the season can/should go to Epiphany. But live with all this for another 12 days? I think not.

It took much planning and several multi-hour sessions to get it all up. I wanted it down in an hour. I knew that wasn't going to happen, but I thought positive thoughts, put my new CD on the player, and gathered boxes. And boxes. Tissue for the delicate items. I emptied the reindeer collection out of the china cabinet and put the old stuff back in, rearranging it as I went. The same was true of the mantle. I found what all was supposed to be there, but I didn't put it up. Going for cleaner lines this winter, I guess. Some latent instinct coming to the fore. Yeah, right. It's spelled l-a-z-y.

Hours later, I had it boxed and at the bottom of the stairs, waiting for the other half to help ferry it up to the attic or out to the garage for storage. I even labeled the boxes. Noted the year. I was so organized it was scary.

But not to worry. I'd rather blog than dust and vacuum the mess I left.

Some things just never change.