I tried. I really did. I started decorating for Christmas at the beginning of November. The first week of December, I was done. I could walk around the house and just enjoy the season, knowing it was finished. By mid-December, I had analyzed and calculated that if I left everything up through the end of January, I would be enjoying the decorations for two months instead of my usual one. Two months. That’s over 16% of the year!

Yeah, analyze; that’s something a person can overdo, right?

But today, the weather was beautiful. Mid-fifties. Sunny. My husband mentioned that he would like to take the lights off the bushes while the weather was nice. So as much as I’d resolved to leave it all up, I knew he was right, and I liked it even better that we could do it together. Tonight, a mere few hours later, it’s in the thirties and raining. Ice is predicted overnight. It feels good that the outside is done.

Inside the house, though, I’m warm and toasty and still enjoying it all. I know I can’t leave everything in place through the end of the month–the poinsettias are already screaming, Take me downstairs!–but I’ll bet the lighted wreath over the fireplace makes it.

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