I dreamt last week that it was May and I hadn't taken down the Christmas tree yet. But then, in the dream, I did. Flip to the next dream frame where I found myself rather plaintively, desperately assuring some person who was thoroughly disdainful about the situation that at least I had it down by May this year, rather than waiting till June as had happened the previous year.
The fuzzy, disapproving person in the indistinct dream chamber was not impressed. Then, while still dreaming, I realized how truly lame it was that I was defending a May disassembly. "Who," I wondered to myself, "DOES this? Who leaves their tree up until May or June?" I was thoroughly distressed, stomach churning.
See, I think that was the real problem. I was asleep and my stomach was churning, causing discomfort, and it triggered the fretful dream.
The stomach churning woke me up and I had that lingering distress you sometimes have upon waking from an upsetting dream, until I lay there in the dark and reassured myself that it was only February, that the tree had come down in early January, that I would not eat after 9 p.m. anymore, and that I would never use a fake tree again.
I cannot be trusted with a fake tree. Fake trees can stand forever; they withstand any fluctuation in temperature and humidity; they hold real still, blending into the background so you don't even see them some days. Real trees cannot physically withstand towering dry and decaying in the home for months on end. Real trees are beautiful and not easy to overlook. Real trees can be cut in a snowy forest, with the whole family in tow, bundled up, cupping steaming mugs of hot cocoa and singing carols.
Real trees don't haunt your dreams.
Next year, it will be a real tree. And no eating after 9 p.m.
Now, I'm just waiting for my tummy to settle down from our homemade pizza fest tonight, then I'll tuck myself in to bed.
Love from the farm,
(P.S. Valentine's is over, no one except school teachers and bar owners actually decorate for St. Patrick's Day, so I get to leap frog to Easter decorations. It's happening. I'm going to do it. And I will not be ashamed.)