Of Loquacity, Conifers, and Vacuum Cleaners

I have discovered that it is rather difficult to keep up a blog, mostly because I don't believe I have many "post-worthy" moments worth publishing here on my own personal-public journal (there's an oxymoron for you). Some people of course, have the talent of making even ordinary experiences seem quite entertaining simply by they way they retell it. I don't really think I am one of those people, but it won't stop me from posting whenever I feel like doing it. It's funny-- I am actually quite a loquatious person, and in fact I just discovered that in the two years and two months in which I've had my cell phone, I've spent at least 589 hours, 45 minutes and 53 seconds talking on it. However, when it comes to writing, I often draw a blank. Every now and then, though, I try to come up with something.

Today's post came to me this morning while I was cleaning. Now, there are many things I was looking forward to when Lance and I got married. One of them was getting to spend all the holidays together -- especially Christmas, and how much fun it was going to be to decorate our own place in the traditional Yuletide fashion. I was also looking forward to all the fun household things we would get to buy, including my very first, very own vacuum cleaner. It isn't like I love vacuuming or anything, but there was something thrilling to me--perhaps because I have never owned one personally--in the very idea of choosing my own Staubsauger (German, literally "dirt sucker"). Lance and I finally decided on a fire-engine red Dirt Devil upright from the Home Depot.

So our first Christmas together was wonderful and our little apartment looked fabulously festive. After the holidays were over I was so sad to take down all the decorations and to denude our beautiful little Christmas pine tree whom we dubbed "Needles." However, that thoughtful Needles left us a lovely parting gift, namely, all of his needles all over the carpet. But never fear! My trusty dirt devil came to the rescue and I didn't really have a problem cleaning up. But Needles' gift was more far-reaching than any of us would have guessed. Even though there aren't any more needles in the carpet (although I will admit that Needles himself is still sitting outside our doorway), and we've already unloaded all the dust and gunk from our vacuum, every time I've turned on the vacuum cleaner since then the effervescent aroma of pine wafts through the apartment. Now there's a gift that keeps on giving!

Needles Then...
and Now
Our faithful Sentinel! Thanks, Needles.