This isn’t my best Christmas. It isn’t me at the height of my Noelistic powers. Gone are the days when my trees touched the ceiling and wore the crown jewels.
I have five cats now.
Numbers three and four really spelled the end. That year, they were always IN the tree.
We called them “the tubes” because, as they grew, they were very long, with two short legs at the corners. No trees for awhile after that.
More than a year ago we got Grace, a Maine Coon.
The other two older cats are Newton (L) and Maxwell (R). This year, I wanted a tree again.
And so, here it is, a Charlie Brown masterpiece, with nothing on it but lights. The cats have completely ignored it. I can’t really blame them. It’s beneath my dignity, too. Maybe next year.