My daughter mutters 'Scrooge' as I contemplate taking down the Christmas decorations. I think she would gladly leave them up all during Epiphany and right into Lent, and so be it for her, but something in me begins to long for simplicity and order. I can carry the spirit of Christmas forward, but not the tinsel and the garlands and the glitter.
So this morning I telescoped the little golden tree we accepted this year as our nod to outdoor greenery. I put the most delicate of our decorations on it, - mostly the ones that had been passed on to me by a dear friend - white and gold and clear and crystal.
I slipped it back into its little flat box along with the paraphenalia that holds it upright, and went on to the garlands and the angels and the Santa Claus.
All the little snowmen and the Christmas candles and their silver and brass candlesticks got tucked away for another year.
I left a few that were small delicate, just to remind us of the joys of the celebration, but when everything else had been boxed and blessed and put up on the tall shelves in closets and cupboards my thoughts turned to the tins of shortbread and fruit cake that linger in the pantry to tempt us.
Off with their heads, I said (aloud)! They will be abundant on the tea table (or in the freezer) until simplicity reigns along with good healthy oatmeal cookies.
I looked around the fairly orderly house (no pine needles) and before Charles came in for lunch I sat down with my new daily journal and made out a list of the men in the family who could do with nice warm woollen work socks next Christmas.
There were nine of them!
The knitting urge is upon me.....