At my house, the halls are still decked out and the tree looms large in the living room. Only a few weeks ago, what was fresh and pine-scented is fast becoming an ancient relic.
After Halloween, it was as if someone grabbed the remote of my life and fast forwarded. Everything whizzed by at warp speed and the holidays were over. Now all the glitz will have to come down, like Cinderella at midnight. The golden carriage becomes a pumpkin, and the glass slippers turn to ordinary house shoes. It's time to forge forward into a brand new year.
In the past, when putting away all the Christmas decorations, I used to just dump everything into boxes. The magic had worn off and I just wanted to get it over with. It was a chore I dreaded.
January stands in stark contrast to November. The onset of the holidays has always been a magical time for me. Bing Crosby is crooning everywhere I go. Before I know it, I'm pulling out all the stops, excited to add sparkle to every corner of the house. As we trimmed the tree this year, serenaded by Nat King Cole, it seemed there was fairy dust everywhere. The aroma of cloves and cinnamon wafted through the air. When we were done, the luminescence of the season descended on our home like gently falling snow.
But after the last relatives were gone, and we're eating yet another turkey sandwich, the thrill seems to dissipate, especially as I ponder all the undecorating that needs to be done.
We've all seen people who still have Christmas lights on their houses in April (and sometimes even July.) Or the tired wreath still hanging on the front door in May. I guess their getting a head start on next year. I sympathize with them. Behind those doors is someone whose saying, "ah, forget about it. I'm worn out."
|Foyer decked out with Christmas bling and cards|
Inspiration or no, I have a job to do. Part II will cover some of the strategies that I use to make the process smoother.