Deconstructing Christmas

Christmas, DomesticArts

Every Christmas I promise myself when it’s time to take down the Christmas tree I will carefully and thoughtfully organize my ornaments. I vow I will store all like-themed decorations together so that if, one Christmas in the future, I want to style the tree in all angels or all Santas or all nutcrackers… the task will be easy. While some may have visions of sugar plumbs dancing in their heads, I have visions of opening beautifully ordered boxes of decorations each year I have carefully and lovingly stored the year before.

As is the case with most fantasies, my reality is grossly different from my well-intentioned imaginations. Yesterday afternoon I started pulling the tree apart. From the photo above you can see I still have my work cut out for me. Most everything is off the tree and I’m gripped with the familiar need to toss everything in big Rubbermaid containers without time or effort put toward organization.  As much fun as Christmas is to assemble, it’s agonizing to put away. Does anyone else have the urge to toss the whole tree with lights still attached? I’ll admit I’ve done it but the nagging image of our landfills jumbled with tree lights will dissuade me from doing it again.

As soon as I post this, I’m going to take a deep breath, get the Rubbermaid tubs from the garage and dump everything inside just to be done with it. The task of expunging Christmas is pesky, it’s true, but the promise of a de-cluttered home, all fresh with clean spaces where vignettes of decorations have been sitting for a month spurs me on. There is something about ringing in the new year in an orderly house that just feels right. It feels so right, I use it as justification for the atrocious way I heave all my treasured ornaments into boxes without much thought.

I’d still like to believe that, one day, I will rise to the occasion and fulfil a responsible post-Christmas clean-up routine. At least this year I’m still too driven by the out of sight/out of mind philosophy that has served me well for years. I suppose it’s always good to have something to aspire to.