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25 December 2025

Last year, you may recall, we were not able to put up a tree for Christmas. We were still recovering from banging our head on a tile floor in August after a mysterious loss of consciousness we now attribute to dehydration.

An unexplained loss of consciousness (at least three doctors explained to us) has to be reported to the Department of Motor Vehicles which, subsequently, suspends your license for six months. So, you know, you don't kill anyone if it happens again.

So we weren't able to drive to the tree lot to buy a tree and load it in the car big end first so we can pull it out the passenger door of the little black Honda we affectionately call the Mini Limo. Or get it out, for that matter, into a stand and up the stairs to the front window.

We haven't lost consciousness for a while now (and if we do, we can explain it). And we've been driving after our license was automatically restored despite our persistent double vision (which has improved 20 percent in a year). So we decided to get a tree this year.

And it has been a consolation.

It's on a smart plug timed to come on in the morning as the kids run up the hill to school before the 8 a.m. bell rings. And again in the evening just before sunset and until we hit the sack.

We strung some of our father's old icicle lights across the top of the window, too. Like the tree lights, they predate the LED era so they are warmer than LEDs.

When we get up in the morning, we see the tree blazing cheerily back at us, as the photo above shows. And when we sit in the front room reading, it keeps us company.

It's gotten lonely around here.

But today we'll drive over to the skilled nursing facility to bring Joyce home for a few hours to enjoy the day, just as we used to. We may even cook something.

With the tree lit and old Christmas DVDs on the stereo.

Merry Christmas to you!


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