I do not like to dismantle our Christmas tree. Before I retired I always found a way to be unavailable when the day came to put Christmas away. Now I have no excuse. It is Epiphany, the 12th day of Christmas, and the job must be done. I do not like it, and I don’t much like the days and weeks after Christmas either. It takes so long to get here, with preparations and anticipation building from mid-November on. And then, sometime during the day of December 25, it all collapses, like a giant balloon with the air suddenly out.
W. H. Auden perfectly captures this post-Christmas ennui in For the Time Being: A Christmas Oratorio: