I hate taking down Christmas. I'm always in such a whirl that I don't really have time to just sit back and enjoy the "pretty" until after Christmas is over. Usually the tree comes down before New Year's Day but this year we had beautiful snow the first few days of the year and it looked like an extended CHristmas card so we left things a little longer. It was so nice in the sunroom, sitting by the crackling fire, watching the birds and squirrels putting on an exhibition just outside the big windows at the feeders, our two cats snoozing nearby. Putting up the tree is a family affair. We have some old ornaments --- like me, dulled and scarred and scratched a bit with time, (some older than our 52 year-old marriage.) but they are precious to us. They take honored spots among all the rest and always as they are hung, someone will say,"Do you remember....?" and we are off on a journey down Memory Lane.
At night the lighted tree is reflected in the surrounding windows till it looks like a forest of Christmas trees are standing in our yard and Fortitude, the huge lighted cedar, towers above everything . How pleasant it is to just sit quietly and soak up the beauty, listening to the last carols of the year.
But, finally the time has come. Mark brings in the empty boxes and containers and I begin the take-down and pack- away and return to normal locations. It's always a little sad to take down the tree and I choose to do this chore alone. (Besides, I want to know where everything is stored for next year.) At last, it's done and I sit down surrounded by boxes ,bells and bags of wreaths and greenery. I do believe there is more stuff here than last year. They go to the attic and basement room tomorrow till next Christmas