Weather or not you like it, Christmas is coming. (Mele Kalikimaka)

Nothing says Christmas in New England like weather in the 50's and 60's. Forget all that wishful dreaming about White Chrismas. There are buds on the forsythias in the Boston Public Garden, and my sister Kath saw cherry blossoms the other day. And here's a look at my front "yard".

Hard to see, but I've got planters full of still-blooming begonias out there. (Yes, I know, it needs to get raked. It was last week. This is the remainder of the leaves on the tree next door.)

Hope this is just a weather fluke - El Nino meets the Polar Vortex - and not the Ghost of Christmas Future.

There are some good things about having unseasonable weather greetings, mostly having to do with walking around with your coat open and not having the heat kick on.

But I prefer to decorate my tree singing "See amid the winter snow," and "The weather outside is frightful." (Well, it is frightful in its own special way. But there's no snow to see anything amid. I guess after last year's wretched excess, I should be merry that there's no snow on the ground. Still.)

This year, it's strictly Mele Kalikimaka, I guess.

Meanwhile, here's this year's edition of O, Tannenbaum.

Not the most magnificent tree ever, but, as I realized last year, my max height for soloing a tree into the stand in upright fashion is 5 1/2 - 6 feet. But it looks fine, (That said, I can hear my mother pointing out the bare spots. Hard to concentrate on making the tree look perfect when the only relevant song on the hit parade is about Hawaii's way of saying Merry Christmas.)

The tree smells nice and balsamy, as a Christmas tree should.

But, apparently, if your tree is not real enough to smell nice and balsamy, you can buy a can of stuff that will "make trees smell like CHRISTMAS."

Our magnificent economy at work again, meeting yet another unmet need.

Although I'm not wild about artificial Christmas trees, I have considered breaking down and getting one. The reason is that I am actually allergic to the pollen in trees.

This wasn't always the case, but this annual tree challenge has come on in the past decade or so.

From the minute the tree goes up to when it comes down, I'm perpetually stuffed up, with watery eyes, soar throats and headaches on a come-and-go basis.

Then I googled the problem and, sure enough, there's a solution: hose down your tree.

So, this Sunday, I dumped the tree in our miniscule front yard and hosed it down before bringing it into the condo.

Sure enough, no more stuffy nose, no more watery, itchy eyes.

I have to say that standing there with a hose in hand, watering down my Christmas tree, was a lot more pleasant in 60 degree weather than it would have been if it had been 40 out.

Maybe those Mele Kalikimaka folks are onto something...