One thing about it, these titles are easy 😉 You might get a poem today. Or you might not. Let’s see where this goes. So concludes the ten days of Christmas and tomorrow I will begin tearing down, bad as I hate to. Yes, I could leave it up for another month, or heck, all year, but isn’t that what makes things special? The anticipation and the overall looking-forward-to-it-iveness? So I’ll pack it up. Sigh. Something is going on with my big tree’s lights, anyway, so best to get that taken down and out of here before it burns the house to the ground. I was coming down the ol’ pike today (as my beloved late uncle called it) and I noticed a delivery type van pulling into my aunt’s driveway. It was a little late for the mail, and I hadn’t ordered any packages and I figured she hadn’t either. As I get closer, I decide it wasn’t a true delivery van at all, as it was a bit worse for the wear, and not in the FedEx “I’m in too big of a hurry to run through the car wash” state of dereliction. I’m now watching from my driveway, and the driver hasn’t disembarked. He pulls around the loop and to the top of the rise and throws his hand up at me. I don’t wave back, because I can’t tell who…