The yearly ritual
Last year’s festive addition to the fireplace
Every year it’s the same. I’m practically foaming at the mouth in anticipation of unearthing the holiday decorations. I can hardly wait for Thanksgiving to come and go so I can go through my ever-multiplying boxes of cheery yuletide joy. My Lang & Wise mugs. My snowmen galore. My garland and wreaths.
And every year I face the same dilemma: Where the heck am I gonna put all this stuff?
Not to mention the recent misgivings: Why did I buy that ugly thing in the first place?
I had breakfast on Friday, then tidied up the living room. My husband proceeded to lug box after box upstairs for me to excitedly open. And by 2:00 I was crestfallen. I had piles of odds and ends and no idea how to best arrange them to create the perfect holiday atmosphere. (And a big ol’ backache that must come from being thirty-something and hunched over 10 overflowing boxes, pulling out this, unwrapping that.)
The sad part is that I’m sure I’ll go through the same ritual next year. Sigh.