blogging previous to this current blogging I mentioned that I had finished with the task of installing my Christmas decorations.
Well, Christmas decoration would be more precise.
Bart Simpson, sitting on my fireplace mantle, serves as my Christmas tree, upon which I hang my one and only Christmas tree ornament, a Christmas stocking tree ornament crocheted by my grandma back in the last century.
I have never had a Christmas tree in any of the domiciles I have inhabited in all the years since I became the master of my own domain.
My lack of Christmas decorating vexed my mom when I lived in Mount Vernon. The house had flat roofs, three of them, two of which were easily accessed via doors. My mom felt it was some sort of sacrilege that I did not string up Christmas lights, what with it being so easy to do on my flat roofed house.
One year, around Thanksgiving, my mom brought over boxes of Christmas lights. She'd bought new ones and was giving me her old ones, thinking this somehow made it inexcusable for me not to put up the lights.
The boxes of lights stayed in their boxes. I don't remember what became of those Christmas lights.