I was okay with not having the Christmas tree up before the 1st of December.

I was okay with missing that St Nicholas day thing, too.

But it's the freaking fifteenth of December, and there are fewer days to Christmas than ever.

So, it had to be done. We ventured into the black hole - the space under the stairs where all things unwanted, unnecessary, or broken are hidden.

 

The long, rectangular cardboard box lay beneath a box of wires, cables, cords and old dial-up modems. It bulged at the sides, was open at one end, and we pulled it by the length of rope that was tied around it to keep stray branches from expanding and pushing their way out of this corrugated prison.

Ah ha! I thought.

That's where my clothesline went! The tree was chopped into three. Three sections that had to be joined and secured to make it stand tall. It was assembled and all the plugs were joined, so the lights were one, end to end. Finally, we added electricity.

The top lit up.

The bottom branches that splay out like welcoming arms lit up. The middle of the tree, not so much. Darkness.

The lights are attached to the branches, so there was no replacing the unlit string.

I didn't know if it was a case of all the bulbs going dark at once, or the wires being damaged.

I tried to move a few bulbs around.

A few broke off in my hand, leaving their plugs in the tree.

It's over for this tree, it's not going to see another Christmas.

It's a fire waiting to short circuit and ignite. Next stop, the trash truck. And it's December 15th, the goose is getting fat and there is no Christmas tree.