Holiday Season Stream of Consciousness Post

I'm sitting here on my duff looking at our newly decorated Christmas tree while a cold, wintry wind blows outside. I put the tree up in less than an hour--lights and all. In previous years, before I had to worry about sharp objects and things that break rather than bounce, I'd have spent an entire evening on the project. For twenty years I've collected ornaments on two continents, continuing a tradition started by my mother decades ago. To display them all, I have to use two trees (plastic, alas, as this household has folks who are allergic to the real thing). For this year's tree, the only ornaments I'll see are some cheap plastic balls that I purchased last year at Target. Not a molecule in them is eco-friendly. Not one. The colors are more akin to a Mexican fiesta and would probably look better on a pinata than a tree. (Not that there's anything wrong with it, but it clashes with our decor. What was I thinking?)

In the next room, the Argentine Senna plant's branches are scratching the window. I expect a frost come morning. Tater Tot crashed long ago. He got to skip his bath when he fell asleep (!) on the tub mat. Hubby is working. 

So, it's quiet in my living room.

Yes, quiet.

Quiet in a way that only people who relish solitude--but are kept from it by familial obligations.

Quiet in a way that can only happen at a particular time of year. (Doesn't cold make quiet more quiet?)

Quiet.