As twelfth night approached
it was time for my daughter and me to fell the mighty (if artificial) spruce,
stripping it of lights and ornaments, dismantling the component branches and
trunk, and packing it all away in storage boxes for another eleven and a half
months; as ever some novelties attempted to keep a low profile and escape their
incarceration (Tinkerbelle managed it last year) but all were rounded up and
packed off - we thought – until a Santa snow globe turned up, which will provide
a potentially unseasonal presence on the plate rack throughout the year.
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