Ludachristmas

Last week we took down our Christmas tree and packed away the ornaments and Christmas books. In the weeks before Christmas, I always find the prospect of the tree a bit daunting. It seems to loom up like a lot of work. I think that's why when I read about people having multiple(!) trees and dozens of boxes of decorations, I just can't fathom it.


Of course, my perplexity is most likely rooted in the fact that a Christmas tree in our house is not so much thing of beauty to be admired, as it is a obstacle to be surmounted and an adversary to be subdued. 


Every year, no fewer than seven beings (four boys, two cats and a dog) delight in debasing our dear tree. It starts out innocently enough with the young'uns rearranging the ornaments within their reach on the branches. (Imagine needles dropping to the floor.) 


Then it progresses to them including the tree as a prop in their games --it's a road! a train station! a dinosaur lair! (More needles...)


The activity reaches fever pitch when, inevitably, the games take a violent turn. Multiple vehicle pile-ups, raging battles among all sorts of creatures and good ol' frenzied chases do a number on our tannenbaum. Quite denuded now, and with ornaments from the lower third of the tree largely rolling around on the floor, our tree is looking a bit the worse for wear. (Did I mention that this is within three days of our putting the tree up?)

One of the many ornaments I will be discovering as they periodically make their way out from under furniture.

But the Christmas tree has still more abuse to endure. The cats --not surprisingly, really-- like to climb among the branches and swat off the ornaments into the waiting jaws of the dog. She, in turn, chews anything she can get her paws or mouth on. And if the cats are not providing adequate supply, she'll help herself when the humans are out.


So, by the time we take down the tree, most of its needles are on the floor, a good portion of the ornaments are under the couch from where I will retrieve them for the next 11 months and the tree has a decided tilt towards the centre of the room.


Why, oh why, would I want one of these shedding, hazardous, make-work things? Yet, when the moment comes to say goodbye, I always feel a bit sad to see it go! (I've decided it's either unresolved issues from my childhood or masochism...)


That said,  I do have a radical plan I'm contemplating for next year. My partner's not on side yet. But that's another instalment. 


How about you? What lunacy does Christmas bring to your home?