O Christmas tree

And suddenly, Christmas is upon us. No sooner had I returned from my blissful Thanksgiving sojourn than I felt firmly in the thick of yet another Christmas season (that Father Time moves pretty darn fast for an old guy). I tend to feel a bit ambivalent about this time of year (I say 'yes' to the holiday spirit and sense of generosity and good cheer; I say 'boo' to all the commercialism and pressure to buy, buy, buy). Just call me Charlie Brown. Fittingly, I've adopted this diminutive and very Charlie Brown-esque potted fir tree as my Christmas tree this year. And in spite of my black thumb credentials in the past (for which T relishes teasing me), I intend to nourish and shower this little fir with all the tender loving care I can possibly muster. And keep my fingers crossed that he won't meet his demise under my guardianship.