Leaving Behind Only Needles and Sap

We unceremoniously kicked the Christmas Tree to the curb last night. It didn't leave without a fight. In a final act of hubris, it dumped what I estimate at a good 5 pounds of needles everywhere on the way out the door. Memories of this conifer will linger well into the spring, if only because it will take that long to disentangle its spiky remnants from the rug.

This tree was a full 10' tall, the first we've had that actually reached to our living room ceiling. It was beautiful, and it knew it. From the beginning, it was a prima donna. Bringing it back from Vermont, we lost a bungy cord en route, forcing LSW to ride halfway out the passenger side window on a 20 degree day to hold it on the roof.

That tree was a self-centered, high maintenance bitch-goddess. And we loved her.

But she's gone now, shorn of her baubles and awaiting a date with the municipal chipper. Life moves fast. One day you're a shining centerpiece, the next gutter-dwelling detritus. Kind of makes your head spin. But not the full 360 degrees, like the chick in 'The Exorcist'. Figuratively makes your head spin.