Today I’ve been packing Christmas away—a necessary if somewhat melancholy task. But Epiphany has passed and, more importantly, it was sunny today and warm enough to take down the outdoor lights. Winter weather will return to southern Ontario on Saturday, and after this it could be March before we’ll have another mild and sunny day.
When I went out onto the front balcony to take down the second floor lights, I realized a squirrel had chewed the wires. Poor squirrel—hope it recovered from what I presume must have been a shock! And poor lights! Next year I’ll hang a slightly shorter strand of outdoor lights over the balcony that will be difficult for the squirrels to access.
This evening after dinner I’ll untrim the tree, and then take it out to the back garden and stand it in a corner to offer winter shelter (and an extra hiding spot from hawks) for the little birds who frequent our feeder and the opossum who occasionally makes a quiet appearance.
If I had my druthers and was a little less exhausted after Christmas, I’d do what I used to do, which was untrim the tree on New Year’s Day, in order to start the year with a clean slate. The purists would have us wait until after Twelfth Night, and fair enough, but it is also perfectly reasonable to want to put away the bright shiny things after a month or more of holiday-related frenzy activity.
I am very fond of ‘shelter’ magazines (particularly those focusing on vintage or ‘country’ decor, although over the years I’ve subscribed to everything from to House and Home to Architectural Digest) and, after the flea market-themed summer issues (although sadly, to my knowledge Architectural Digest has never had a flea market issue—it totally should!), my favourites have always been the January-February issues, which reliably feature pale colours and peaceful, serene settings.
I love the idea of a January re-set. I love seeing pictures of soft mauve throws layered against clean-lined grey sofas with low stacks of curated art books set just so atop rustic coffee tables in the foreground and pale winter light casting its restful glow over the peaceful scene.
Maybe this year I’ll manage, in this serene season, to clean off our own coffee table well enough to reliably find the television remote!