It Lingers Still
Ah, Christmas is so wonderful. You just want it to go on and on.
And it does.
Picking up after Christmas can take you right into February.
Four years ago, I convinced my husband that we should buy an artificial pre-lit tree. He loves real trees. He was not enthused. But I convinced him that we would buy the prettiest one we could find, and it would be so much easier to put up and take down. I even let him pick out the biggest one in the store, as my husband is a firm believer in Big Stuff.
Ha ha on me.
This tree is so big that I strained my shoulder putting it back in the attic the first year. When I went to the doctor to make sure I hadn’t torn my rotator cuff, the doctor asked me why my husband wasn’t carrying such a heavy thing. Well, he was. He had the other end. Our “easy” tree goes into two boxes, and it takes two people to carry each box. And obviously, it takes two people who are stronger than me.
But then again, the artificial tree is easier to put up than a real tree – once we get it down from the attic. Of course we have to bring up from the cellar the biggest ladder we have in order to decorate the top third. I’ve thought about leaving the top third undecorated, but we already have to leave the bottom third undecorated, due to our fur children. So that would just leave a decorated swath in the middle, which looks strangely like the jangling coin scarf that belly dancers wear. Hence the ladder.
But the best part of an artificial tree is the lack of shedding.
Ha ha on me.
This tree – which cost more than 10 years’ worth of real trees – is so realistic, it drops needles as prolifically as the aforementioned ten.
And these needles are strangely eternal.
They stubbornly refused to be vacuumed.
It is now the third week of January, and AFTER I finished today’s housecleaning, my living room still looked like this:
Do you remember Rich Hall, from “Not Necessarily The News”? He coined the term Sniglet, for words that are not in the dictionary, but should be. (My favorite was McMmonia – which describes the olfactory phenomenon of McDonald’s having just washed the floor every time you go in.)
Anyway, there’s an old Sniglet for my artificial tree’s artificial needles’ stubbornness.
That’s when you pick up what your vacuum wouldn’t – but then you put it back down to give your vacuum one more chance.
But my vacuum won’t take the free throw.
It’s almost as if the vacuum repels the needles. Like negative energy, these needles go the other way when the vacuum gets close. Or when the vacuum goes over these little bastards, they pretend they are being sucked in, but then they jump out somewhere else on the floor.
I am beginning to think the vacuum is a naturalist. It lives on a diet composed of 97% cat hair and 3% garden dirt. It does not want artificial junk.
At least when we had a real tree, vacuuming the needles made the house smell really nice.
Right into February.