... but I don't.
I think Gumby's "Merry Christmas, Dammit" is a better approximation of how I feel about the whole mess. Mom, on the other hand, digs through the ornaments and other Christmas decorations as though she actually enjoys it. To get to those decorations, stored from season to season in an old trunk in the living room, she must first remove Aunt Belle's old (and heavy) Victorian lamp, Mom's clock radio and assorted other paraphernalia. I, of course, am the one charged with removing the lamp (and putting it back when she is done).
Merry Christmas, Dammit ... indeed!
The decorations would be better stored indefinitely.
But Mom's got the spirit and so I must go along. I did, after all, contribute $7 (plus tax) towards the enterprise so I have some, however little, vested interest in it turning out well. I'll show you first how it turned out:
Last evening, for the first lighting, I went out onto the south lawn and took this shot looking back towards our enclosed porch. OK, it looks lovely, right? Humbug!
What was my $7 contribution? I bought a digital timer to control the lights: on at 5 p.m., off at 11 p.m. In the winter the porch is quite cold and I didn't want to have to go in and out turning the lights on and off. Besides the only outlet is in the basement and that is even more of a hassle. So I bought a timer, programmed it and will not have to mess with any of it again until she decides (on December 26) to take it all down.
Mom began the project two days ago. I brought the artificial tree in from the garage. We keep it there enclosed in two plastic garbage bags. I helped her dig the ornaments out of the trunk (twice). She had finished and then decided the tree "wasn't quite full enough". So off came the lamp and out came the boxes of ornaments again.
Here's a view of the decoration in progress. Mom takes the whole event quite seriously. Our little artificial tree isn't much, is it? We've always set it up in the living room but it's so disruptive that I suggested this year we put it on the porch. Last year, with Dad being ill, we didn't put it up at all. We can see it from the dining room window; cars passing the house can see it as they come north on S. Clayton Road.
So this part of the holidays in done for another year. That, in fact, is the best part of it. Getting it over and done with.
Last night, as I turned to climb the stairs to bed, the dining room was lit from without by these colorful tiny lights. They were pretty; I'll give Mom that. But for myself, I'd never mess with any of it.