2022’s Christmas Tree is six days old and as of this writing, the person most likely to re-decorate it – my kitty, Smöl – has not even gazed longingly at it.
Smöl is using the chilly day to have her afternoon nap in the flannel sheets and blankets. Had I not seen her tail disappearing into the nest, I wouldn’t know where she is.
It’s our third holiday together since I got her five-year-old self from the pound during lockdown. Every month, more and more of her personality comes out.
Still. Is she merely lulling me into a false sense of security?
Anyone care to place a bet on it lasting until the first week of January?
While a half-height tree doesn’t allow me to empty out the boxes of wooden Charlie Brown ornaments I painted mumble – decades ago, seeing them amid the glowing icicles is cheering and comforting.