May your days be merry and bright

I don't put up a real tree anymore. Haven't done it in years. I have a teeny, tiny fake one I sometimes put on the mantle and I have a string of Christmas lights that I put in a basket and that seems like enough these days. But when my daughter was growing up, I used to go all out. I put up Santas and centerpieces and Christmas villages. Made my own wreaths and swags out of real greens that I spent hours collecting in the woods.

Even when I was a kid, I was more or less in charge of tree decoration. I took over stringing the lights at a rather early age. That was the year my Dad was drunk and literally started throwing barely unrolled strings onto it and calling it a night. I strung the lights on every Christmas tree I've ever had since then.

And of course this meant I was also the one who unraveled the strings and found the bulbs that needed replacing. Back in the day if one bulb was out, the whole damn string wouldn't light. It's a arduous task not well suited to those with small capacity for tedium. So this photo that popped into my social stream from England, just sparked a whole lifetime of memories.

[via Miss Cakehead]

[Photos are better if you click on them to embiggen.]