I guess it's about that time. Tonight I reluctantly started packing away the Christmas tree. Proper protocol says this should be done right after New Years, but I think you can get away with most of January before you're officially labeled "tacky".
I didn't want to, though. I love watching movies with just the twinkle from my tree, I love the coziness of it. And I think I'm particularly fond of it because it was my first ever big girl tree. No family ornaments, no roommate input, just me & Natalie. It's not perfect, lord knows the tree itself is a scraggly Charlie-Brown-looking thing, but it's lovely nonetheless. I look at it sort of like your first apartment, you get the foundation pieces & over the years it grows with details to perfection.
And this is kind of sentimental, I'm almost embarrassed to admit this level of sappy, but I tried to pick ones that would age well in case kids or grandkids would ever want to keep ornaments "that Oma had since she was young even before she even met Opa". <--I'm a schmuck sometimes.
So goodbye, pretty pink & gold tree. Goodbye, bows & glitter. See you in 11 months... we'll have a new home by then. (Whaaaa? My friends are moving out of a STEAL of an apartment in the spring, so I'll be taking it over & moving back to my beloved SS Flats! Yeee!) Ta-ta til then, tree!