About the massively thick trail of pine needles left from where the dead Christmas tree stood to where the dead Christmas tree exited the house, my husband said, "Let this be a lesson to you next year when you tell me you want a real Christmas tree because that is how Northerners do it."
Thing is, there was something so housewifingly* gratifying about vacuuming up the piles and piles of needles...
how each one came to life as the suction came closer and closer,
how they finally gave a jump and then disappeared,
the faint zzt, zzt, zzt as each tiny needle hurdled up into the canister,
the way all of the needles danced around together in the canister,
the dead pine smell that will softly emanate from the vacuum the first few times I use it after this very moment.
Clearly, I may need to purchase another coniferous tree this spring and kill it just so I can once again have the opportunity to indulge in such an activity.
*housewifingly (adv.) (haus-wīf-ing-lē) - A word used to describe any adjective describing any duty of a housewife. Example: The apron-clad woman was struck by the housewifingly lovely sight of the 100th stack of dishes that Christmas week with guests in the house, though she was quite sure that the 101st stack might not prove to be so housewifingly alluring.
(from The Kathleen's Dictionary, 1st Edition)