|How they do Christmas trees in Copenhagen. It would be even better|
if it were so brightly lit you could see it from the moon.
It was lovely outside last Tuesday. It was warmer outside, in fact, than inside (if you missed why, see here). So warm and toasty outside (as opposed to inside, where multiple sweaters and a nose muff were required) that I violated my rule against putting the Christmas lights up before Thanksgiving especially if the weather is warm and pleasant.*
When K and I walked outside Tuesday evening to take a look at the lights, K hesitated. "They are really…bright," he said, shielding his eyes from the glow.
You can read by our lights. From across the street.
"I know," I said. "Aren't they pretty?"
"They are…really bright," K said. "Should they be that bright?"
"You can see them from the moon," I said happily.
K nodded. "Sweetie," he said gently, "There's no one on the moon to see them. And meanwhile, you have blinded all our neighbors."
Which is demonstrably not true. Although I do notice that they are all wearing sunglasses at night these days.
*I grew up in Wyoming. I believe it is cheating to put up outdoor Christmas lights in nice weather. How can you really appreciate the glow of the lights when your labors are finished without having suffered frostbite to install them?