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My husband just brought it to my attention that I still have remnants of Christmas decorations all over the downstairs living areas. Wow! I’d gotten so used to them being there, and they fit so well with the décor that they’d grown on me. (Love those bowls of ornaments and the silver ornaments around the powder room lights)
Hubby reminded me about homes we’d visited, long after the season was over, the wreaths had browned and dropped needles all over the carpet; the poinsettia leaves had curled up and threatened to fall off if we stared at them too hard.
On the other hand, I’ve been to homes in July where the pine spray seemed so real you could cry; the statues of life-sized elves appeared startlingly rea, and the over-sized Santa driving a resplendent, reindeer driven sleigh didn’t appear overdone? Not at all. The Christmas music chiming in the background, added a thing of beauty!
In a world gone mad with rules and laws—prohibitive language, unfair practices, and other forms of sadness and madness, can’t we just have Christmas?
Since I don’t live in la-la land, I will take the rest of the Christmas decorations down and pack them away. We did just welcome daylight savings time last week (albeit reluctantly), and that’s a sure sign that Spring and summer are around the corner.
I’m leaving the Thanksgiving pillow. I’ve grown attached to it.
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