I took the tree down Sunday.
I think this was probably the earliest I've ever taken the tree down. It's not that I'm all grinchy this year or anything; I just took a look at that tree Sunday morning and thought, "I'm really kind of over that."
I mean, that glorious, fabulous pine smell had pretty much dissipated, and if you brushed against a bottom branch when filling the stand a shower of needles would rain down, but really, those are just excuses.
It was blocking the sun and I wanted it down and out it went*. The porch decorations and the mailbox garland and all the outside stuff is still up, but the tree is history.
How about you? Tree still up, or down already?
Oh! And in other weekend news, it hit fifty here on Saturday, which means I was out in the driveway in my ski jacket, washing the car. Hell, make hay while the sun shines and all that.
And then! Sunday, I was backing out of the driveway when I heard a giant "BAM!" from underneath the car. Judging by the way it's now listing to port, I think I probably busted a shock or a spring or something. Which is what happens when you own a Saturn: Shit breaks when you're backing out of the driveway. No wonder they don't make 'em anymore. Oh, and you can scroll down to the post below, where we're playing a little guessing game about how much the repairs are gonna cost.
*Truly? This is one of the best things about living alone. No negotiations, no "Well, maybe we should leave it up for one more week", no having your partner promise to take care of it and then he doesn't take care of it and pretty soon it's almost FEBRUARY and there's an ugly fight about how he NEVER does what he says he'll do and
man, I'm glad I live alone. Holy shit.