I want you all to know that I went ahead and took down the Christmas lights from the tall Spruce in front of the Little Cottage today. I mean, I was GOING to, I had INTENDED to, I really WANTED to do it tomorrow on St. Patrick’s Day, but you know me, I’m an overachiever.
As I stretched this way and that, using the hooked pole, unwinding and lifting and lowering strand after strand of lights, I thought back to our beautiful Christmas holiday this year. The kids had so much fun; WE had so much fun giving them so much fun; Grandma Jane and Mike had so much fun watching us have fun giving the kids so much fun…..
It was a wonderful season, filled with love and laughter and peace.
I thought about all of that as each *^%%^@! strand of light got tangled into other @#!#$$ strands of lights, and it was REALLY starting to piss me off. Several strands actually snapped in my impatience; my arms were burning so badly that I just yanked the dagnab thing, sometimes snapping the branch off in the process.
I began muttering. That soon ratched up to cursing, until I called over to My Captain, who was in the yard cleaning up sticks and leaves.
“If you don’t help me with this thing right now, I’m going to snap this damn pole in two, SO HELP ME!” I hollered for all the neighbors to hear.
My Captain hollered back for me to just throw the pole down and go inside before I ruptured an artery or something.
I hurled the damn pole down with a ferocity that only a 220lb woman can hurl, and stomped back into the house, swearing I’ll never put those goddamn lights back up so help me…..
….er,….God.
And then I remembered Christmas peace and joy and fun, and everything I’d been so content with just a half an hour ago.
And thumped down on a kitchen chair, and felt about 2 years old.
The good news? I beat St. Patrick’s Day for getting the lights down this year. The bad news? Only half of the light strands are still in one piece.
Happy St. Patrick’s Day, friends! May your day be filled with…uh….PEACE!
Mama B.
