Kickass, the doorstop dog, reports that with the Christmas tree safely in Phyllis’s capable hands—trimmed beautifully in a corner of the living room, the keeper is free to wallow in Christmas tree memories that illustrate why he has finally been demoted from any meaningful Christmas tree participation.
It all may have peaked the year the keeper improvised a tree stand from a five-gallon crock filled with rocks and water, and which toppled over in the middle of the night turning the living room into a soggy, boulder-strewn swamp for the duration of the holidays.
Forever trying to beat the exorbitant tree prices, the keeper once bought a dried-up fir that shed every last needle immediately after it had been trimmed; and then there was the year that a huge “bargain” tree turned out to be too big for any part of the house but the garage; and had to be abandoned and replaced—expensively replaced.
The keeper once wrote a newspaper column about ignoring your age and experiencing the joy to be had in lying on your back under the Christmas tree while dreaming of Christmases past—not including ones with soggy carpeting, of course.
It is possible that the keeper may try lying on his back and dreaming under Phyllis’s Christmas tree this year, and if he does, he is sure that Phyllis, being kind and understanding, will recognize that he will likely need help getting back onto his feet.
There have been THAT many Christmases past for the keeper; and, as was true for all of them, this one is the best, in no small measure because of Phyllis’s presence, along with her Christmas tree, of course.