Especially around the holidays. It took two men to load this tree into my car, so why did I think I'd be able to get it from the car, through the back yard and into the front room by myself? Because. It's what I do. When I want something done, I do it, or it doesn't get done. So, when I hear my friends complain about their husbands, I listen, but all the while, I'm thinking: Hang on to him. He can carry stuff, open stuff, undo stuff you can't undo. My friends know my horrendously bad taste in men, and I don't deny there are many, many reasons I'm single. And most of the time, I prefer it that way. My cats don't cheat or lie. Neither does Bella. And I'm grateful for that. I just wish they could do a little heavy lifting once in a while.
But the tree made the trip across the yard and through the house with very little damage to the floors or my back. I will hang the lights on the porch this afternoon, haul the decorations up the basement stairs and light the tree tonight. Thanksgiving is tomorrow for Mom and me, and I will have a merry holiday. But who's going to get this tree out in January? Happy Thanksgiving, everyone!