Poor Santa. We wore him out this year. Not to mention the tree. We had a Zach Christmas on the 19th. A couple of other ones around the actual little baby Jesus fake winter birthday date and then, after waiting for the in-laws to recover from a thirty-day Dubai - Cape Town cruise and for Shana to get back to town to grace us with her presence (and presents), we had the last round on January 6th. It was close to 80 degrees out by then. The tree had started to droop. The starlight on top needed to be propped up. The thing started to smell. Sort of smokey. Char-y around the bulbs. Around New Year's Day, I stopped using the lights unless I was sitting right there, fire extinguisher handy, and, just to be safe, unplugged them from the wall when I wasn't until the last present was unwrapped. Today I walked past the plain, naked tree lying by the back gate waiting for next week's pick-up and smelled something.
Pine.
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