When our Auntie Lillian died last year Mistah and I inherited her La-Z-Boy. And we love it. Actually, I think it's a La-Z-Girl because it's smaller than the big manly ones. Very petite and streamlined. Like me.
Anyway. Miz Girl sits where every year our tall and skinny -- like me -- Christmas tree has always lived. And there is really no where else to put Miz Girl. Or the tree. It is a wee little house we live in.
Mistah suggested putting it in the middle of the living room floor. I laughed uproariously and then changed the subject.
But then two separate people -- my Mom and Mr. O -- suggested this very same thing:
Put the tree outside.
Put the tree outside!
Boom. Million dollar idea right there.
Nope. Nobody gave anything to us. On the contrary. We gave moolah to them.
But then? They gave back to us.
But wait. What about the Things? The Christmas Things? All our traditional ornaments and mementos stored in the basement that we trot out year after year after year, with which Rachel and I lovingly decorate our tree while Mistah sits on his chair and tries to give us helpful pointers about tree placement?
Well here's the Thing about Things. Life changes and evolves and sometimes Things change. And Things become new Things. All those traditions can wait a year to rear their heads -- or they can change alltogether.
Will it rain? Yes. Will it snow? Most definitely. Will we have nor'easters and bombogenesises and snowmegeddons? Of course.
But today it looks beautiful.
And we have an excellent new bird feeder.
And A New Tradition.