The tree began to drop its needles just as other trees have done. Each needle, as it began to fall, was caught, swooped up, as the man who owned the tree lot had curses wished upon him for selling a tree that was not thirsty, not as thirsty as it should have been.
Say you missed a needle. Then another. Then another. Until several lay around. And say after cleaning this up, months later, many months later, you found one buried deep within the carpet.
This would have you dropping to your knees, exhausted, cursing every Christmas that’s ever been.
Say you missed a needle. Then another. Then another. Until several lay around. And say after cleaning this up, months later, many months later, you found one buried deep within the carpet.
This would have you dropping to your knees, exhausted, cursing every Christmas that’s ever been.
There was no joy in Whoville?
~
Posted by: ifthethunderdontgetya™³²®© | January 14, 2013 at 07:49 AM
Bissels were the best for pine needle clean-up! Do they still make them?
Posted by: Jennifer | January 14, 2013 at 04:43 PM