It seems I've been talking to myself on this blog as of late. However, that has never bothered me... much, and it's certainly never stopped me. So, I continue with my mindless babble, perhaps driving away even more readers and the few who have braved making comments. It's okay, really. I understand that it's the busiest time of year for everyone. Fortunately or not, my shopping has been done, the tree has been decorated, the house bedecked with Christmas cheer, and we decided to not send out Christmas cards this year.
Granted, I could be out in the guest house or out at our storage unit... cleaning out years of semi-hoarding, but it's too freaking cold for that. You need to be able to move quickly for that kind of work and layers of clothing doesn't really allow for that kind of industrious labor. That's my excuse and I'm sticking with it.
So, I'll tell you the tale of my latest blunder. Actually, I wasn't going to tell anyone but decided it was too damn funny not to tell anyone and everyone that would listen. We all know I don't have the making-the-tree-lights-work gene from past years, but I'm also
stubborn, which tends to make up for that.After I rearranged my Christmas tree the other day to accommodate the new ornaments I'd bought, I turned off the lights and happily went to bed and slept with visions of spiked eggnog in my head. Or something like that. The next day at dusk I went to turn on the lights and the entire center section of the tree didn't light up. Wha? There must be at least 600 lights on the stupid tree. You know. At least 6 or so years of throwing on new lights just to avoid this very thing. I was stunned into silence but it didn't last long.
I wanted to throw the tree through the living room windows and be done with it. I was just so frustrated after all the hanging of ornaments, adjusting and tweaking, so tossing it wasn't really an option, just a momentary dark thought. Mr. Snooty wisely chose to stay out of my way. That was Friday night.
Actually, I couldn't imagine Christmas without lights and since I always keep several boxes of new strands of lights, I went to gather them up and head back to the tree where I would tackle the job of adding new lights. I carefully removed all the breakable ornaments and attempted to find the strand that threatened to ruin my Christmas. No luck there but my hands might possibly be scarred for life from the branches.So I begrudgingly spent most of the day on Saturday taking off ornaments, adding new lights, then once again decorating the tree, but just the mid-section. Still, our tree is 7.5' tall so it was no small fete, I assure you. At last I was finished and as I reached to the back of the tree to hang one last crystal prism, I stepped on something under the tree skirt.
Yes, I stepped on the button that turns those lights back on that I thought were burned out. What a light show it provided! Somehow, I had failed to notice that little button had slipped itself under the tree skirt when I wasn't looking. No, I wasn't drunk although I wish I could say that I was. However, at that point I just went in the kitchen and fixed myself a nice stiff drink and went back to the living room to sip it as I looked upon my glorious light show.When Mr. Snoots came into the room I told him of my blunder and we both broke into hysterical laughter and toasted to our fully lit tree which now has more than 800 lights on it. It's now more complicated than the New York City subway system. But you should never lose your sense of humor, right?
Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays to all!
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