I love Christmas lights … particularly on trees.  I do not believe there is anything quite more magical.  Putting them up, however, is a completely different story.  I remember one year I tried to do it alone.  I decided while I was at it to treat myself to my favorite “cup of cheer” (a 7 & 7 with a lime) and the lights were looking terrific!  When I got cold I would go in and refill my glass.  After a total of around four my work was finished and I stood back, looked up, and admired my handiwork.  The lines were so meticulous, so straight; so precise.  The OCD part of me rejoiced.  I had wrapped our thick trees out front to perfection with nary a hitch.  In fact I was not even cold anymore.  I decided to call it a night feeling very proud of all I had accomplished.  The next morning I went out to survey my hard work.  <long, stunned pause>  Well, the bottom of the trunks were indeed perfection, strung tightly and evenly across the rough bark.  But as I began to look higher I noticed with no small amount of chagrin they were lopsided and loose; it was as if some drunk had strung them.  Horrified, I decided perhaps it might be better if we called upon professionals to string the lights the next year.  So my rule now is sticking to “Christmas cheer” within the warm confines of our home while deft men with high ladders get the job done of making the outside of our home look like the holidays.  The English poet Thomas Tusser once said, “At Christmas play and make good cheer, for Christmas comes but once a year.”  God bless you whatever your faith may be, one and all.