Christmas with three rescue cats has proven… Challenging; that’s the word I was groping for. The cats clearly regard the tree as marvelous gift from Darleen and me, and they treat it as such. Fortunately, my bride had the foresight to decorate our tree with a string of plain white lights and unbreakable ornaments exclusively, but even the unbreakable ornaments have fallen prey to the cats’ nocturnal revels. We came in this morning to find the entire tree denuded from about the three-foot level down, and some of the branches broken. Not one single ornament. It made Charlie Brown’s poor little tree in Peanuts look like the official State tree in Washington by comparison. The floor, on the other hand, was very festive. I know I should take a modern attitude toward all this, but I am one of those very hidebound, reactionary traditionalists when it comes to Christmas, and I like the damn ornaments on the tree, not under my foot. We re-hung them all, but only result was a renewed burst of high-spirits on the cats’ part. I have a feeling that tomorrow we may find the entire tree recumbent on the floor. Oh, well. It’s only once a year. Thank God.
A peaceful, joyous, and safe Christmas to all.