Oh, the Joys of Temporary Housing


As many of you know, my husband and I moved a few months ago. We went into this move knowing it was temporary. As in less than a year. I wasn't too picky about our housing options. My tagline was, "We can do anything for a year." Boy has that slogan come back to bite me. Over and over again.

The latest nightmare came when it was time to put up the Christmas tree.

I didn't conduct a thorough and efficient recon of the house we ended up renting. I spent five minutes walking through it and said, "yep, it'll do just fine." As it turns out, our backyard is a major highway. Yes, there is a field in between us and the highway, but it does little to muffle the constant noise. I firmly believe that every trucking company is required to drive on the highway behind our house as part of their contract. Day and night the trucks roar by. It's lovely. Especially when you plan backyard get-togethers. They usually end up resembling a game of charades, with guests acting out their words because we can't hear over the noise.

Back to the Christmas tree.... I had 11 ft. ceilings in my old house. I have a 9 ft. Christmas tree. It worked so well in the house we left behind. It doesn't work so well with my new 8 ft. ceilings. Yeah, you know where I'm going with this, don't you?

The top piece of my tree could only be attached if we cut a big hole in the ceiling, which I considered for a minute or so until I saw Mr. Andi glaring at me as if to say, "don't even utter those words."

So, my Christmas tree has been decapitated. It is gorgeous. It really is. Well, until you lift your eyes to see the top and realize there is no top. I'm not sure whether to ban people from my house during the holidays or just ban them from looking up.


I made a lame attempt at creating a pointed top by stuffing some gold poinsettias and filler sticks up there. It didn't work out too well, as you can see. It's rather obvious something is missing. My Christmas tree is the one the other trees laugh at.

Oh, and the other day when my husband and I were driving home and the weather had turned cold, I looked at him and cooed, "I can't wait to get home and snuggle by the fire." His reply? "If we have a fire, we'll be running, not snuggling."

Oh yeah, I forgot about that. We don't have a fireplace. That drive-by recon strikes again. But I thought fireplaces were standard in all houses. Especially those built in the last five years. Apparently not. Oh well, I can do anything for a year, right?

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