Before dinner on Sunday afternoon Susan's Christmas tree was at the curb. That's right, at the curb! As far as she can tell, her tree was the first in the neighborhood to assume that location.

There's really nowhere in Susan's house to fit a dead tree anyway. There's no picture window to prop it in front of and no corner that doesn't already have something in it even if it's only a few shelves to hold her Santa Clara pottery.

Traces of Christmas remain in the house; lights and snowflakes and things, but the biggest offender is out. The Christmas cards are gone too. 

She's ready for the NEW year.