A knock at my door revealed Greta, our neighbourhood’s unofficial curmudgeon, glaring at me like I’d just installed another foghorn (I hadn't). "Your Christmas lights are so bright. I can see them from my living room. They're distracting me from my Murdoch Mysteries. Mid-November! Heavens, have you no respect for the calendar?" "I'm sorry, Greta?" I replied. "It's getting dark very early around here. I thought plugging in the lights would bring some sparkle and joy to our dreary street." 1/🧵