Tomorrow morning my assistant makes another storage run for me –– I’m too busy with 2 clients + a newsletter to write + a dozen promotional emails, plus my Cancun workout + a play –– and somehow this second round of packing stirred some moody moments in me.
It’s going to be sad to leave the cottage for so many reasons, typified by my having to take down my Christmas tree.
Yes, I know it’s March 15th, but since the tree’s been outside all this time, it’s lasted extremely well.
For the first two months, with the slightly chilly air and the occasional rains, it really was completely fresh.
Only now, 3 months+ after I got it in December, is my beautiful tree starting to show a little less than evergreen-ness about itself.
It really has been so magical –– below is the view I have of it from where I sit and write –– and even the neighbors have told me how much they enjoy it.
And, like my entire interlude in the cottage, having milked 3 months of Christmas Celebration (and I’m not removing the tree until the day before I leave, so make that 4 months), really I can’t complain at all.
Four months of Christmas –– or a year and six months in the cottage –– is a much more magical window than almost anyone gets.
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