Thanksgiving has been celebrated and we are now moving on to the glorious celebration of Christ's birth.  One of the traditions I started after my matrimonial proceedings was to put up the Christmas tree the day after Thanksgiving. 

All started well this year with Dear Man in a swell mood and gung ho to start the season.  We dug out our 15 year old fake tree, pulled down marked boxes from the rafters of the garage and set the troops to work on interior decorating with a winter theme. 

Dear Man removed the parts of the faux evergreen from the box placing the branches according to color code.  He then asked Boy 1 to hand him the branches in order of smallest to largest.  Half way down the tree Dear Man noticed that the branches being handed to him were smaller than the last two rows.  No matter, he sighed deeply and gave me a look which gave me the feeling that I should probably re-cover length in Boy 1's mathematics. 

Tree up, it was time for the lights.  Dear Man started with our lighted angel topper, purchased on the same date as our decrepit deciduos pine.  The angel is supposed to flap her wings and light up.  Wings flapped, no lights.  He tested each light, replaced each bulb.  No lights.  I finally told him that it was all right as I had always worried she would catch fire anyway, just put her on with flapping wings.  

Next was the string of lights.  Dear Man plugged them in and found that one strand, although lit, was not blinking.  Strand two was blinking only half way through.  Once again he went down the line trying to find the culprits that should put a damper on his holiday cheer.  He was seriously thinking that Christmas trees should be outlawed. 

Finally!  All lights were lit and blinking.  He unplugged them to wrap them around the tree.  He plugged them back in.  All lights were lit but not blinking.  Even after the appropriate warming up period, the lights continuted with their obsitnance and refused to flicker.  A glance at me and I reassured him they would be fine.  Besides it would save us from lawsuits in case someone should have an epilipetic fit from flashing Christmas decor. 

Dear Man could now sit back and relax.  It was time for the next traditon to begin.  Several years ago we hit up on the idea of letting the children decorate the tree.  Each year has had it's interesting moments of us recognizing our offsprings growth.  Girl 1 can now reach the top of the tree.  Boy 2 is putting all of his ornaments on one branch.  Girl 2 thinks most of her ornaments are ugly and should be hung in the back.  Boy 1 can't reach the top, is not putting all of his ornaments on one branch, and thinks they are all lovely and should be at the front of the tree.  Even the one he colored when he was six. 

We lit some candles, drank some eggnog, (those of us who could) and listened to Christmas music.  It was festive and Dear Man began to regain some of his earlier good humor.  Once the tree was decorated we turned out all the lights and looked at this years creation.  It was proclaimed lovely.  Dear Man did say he wished the lights would blink.  Maybe next year.