My tree is a zillion years old and probably made of the same stuff toilet brushes are made of but we remain faithful every year.
The Santas guard the stairs and as I wander down in the morning the hem of my robe tumbles them to the bottom. Consider that morning exercise, re-positioning them.
The cats take charge of re-arranging the village. They also like to chew the artificial snow although they are beginning to see that it isn't that flavorful.
This is the village before the daily re-arranging.
Horse is always a good sport although the season is lost on him. Personally I think he prefers St. Pat's Day.
Anyway, for those of us there who belong to the school of too much, hang together people; the pop-up people are slowly encroaching on our territory.
