Until next year . . .

I just dread taking down the Christmas decorations. Not so much because of the daunting task I know it will be. Not because I know it will literally take me six to eight hours or more to take it all down, clean the house, and put the house back together. Not because of the painstaking impossibilities of fitting over one-hundred Santas and a gazillion other decorations back into the crates they came out of. It is the fact that I'm simply de-Santasizing the house!

There is a story with nearly all 100+ Santas that I have collected. The poker-playing Santa from my Vegas friends! The wood carved Santa from my neighbors who went out west and thought of me while they were there. The Italian Santa from my days of Christmas Around the World. The pair of Santa's hubby got me on one our first Christmases together. The Santa in a beach chair from my "and stuff" friend. The "wipeout" Santa that my daughter got me this year . . . which, as I explained to her is a double whammy bringing back years and years of gymnastics memories with it! The canoeing Santa and the Santa with skis from hubby and son. The pair of Santas with critters from my brother. My kneeling over baby Jesus Santa from my sister-in-law. So very many memories; and it is like I am boxing them up . . . putting them away. It saddens me a little every year ~ even though I know I will giggle and smile and get weepy as I take each one out again next year. I know. I'm a little whacky.

And so, in the next few days, I will begin de-Santasizing and become a tiny bit melancholy. It won't last long. And once the house is back in order, or perhaps slightly rearranged, I know I will have a renewed energy for a new year. It is a cycle I am rather used to and kind of oddly fond of. I hope that when you de-Santasize your homes, you relish special memories in tiny bits of glitter and fur and sparkles and joy . . . until next year . . .