Mamacita says: We don’t use our front door much unless we have houseguests, and then mainly because we don’t want anybody to risk tripping over something as they follow the tiny path of nonclutter through the garage to the outer door that we mostly use when entering and exiting the house.
No, we don’t really even SEE the front door much, unless it’s December and I’m hanging a big beautiful wreath on said door.
I mention this tonight because said wreath is still hanging on said door. I use my non-use of the door as my main excuse; who remembers what she never sees, after all?
However, whenever we have day after day after day of pouring incessant torrential rain, for some reason I can’t STOP think of that out-of-season wreath hanging on the front door for all the world to see and pass judgment on as it hangs helplessly, in March, and dripping because it’s thoroughly soaked and can’t be brought into the house until it’s completely dried out which will take more weeks and by then I’ll have forgotten about it again and won’t find it until it’s time to hide Easter eggs, and I’ll be so embarrassed at being THAT PERSON who still has a wreath on the door in springtime that I’ll probably seclude myself in the dining room and devour all the Reese’s Eggs in spite of my diabetes and overall fatness.
I’ve been obsessing so much over that soaking wet Christmas wreath that I’ve hardly had time to notice the large black iron basket overflowing with golden balls and candles sitting there on top of the tiny little corner table in the foyer right beside the front door, and which I walk past at least a dozen times a day. Apparently, it has mutant powers and is fighting so hard for survival that it becomes invisible whenever it senses my presence.
I don’t have the excuse of it being soaking wet, either. I haven’t thought up my excuse for leaving it be yet, in fact. If you have any suggestions, please, bring ’em on.
Because the fact is, whenever I DO “see” the basket of golden glowing balls and candles there, it still makes me smile. In fact, I usually smile twice. Once for the general coolness of the black basket full of golden balls and candles, and once because I’m such a tool for having a Christmas basket of balls in my foyer in March.
Come on over and see it. Use the front door so you can see the wreath.
