And though in tinsel chain and popcorn rope
My tree, a captive in your window bay,
Has lost its footing on my mountain slope
And lost the stars of heaven, may, oh, may
The symbol star it lifts against your ceiling
Help me accept its fate with Christmas feeling. (robert frost)
There’s only one thing I can think of that is more embarrassing to put on your blog than naked pictures of yourself (never would!)- and that’s the confession that you’ve gone over to the dark side in the Christmas tree wars.
All I can say is it’s a good thing my father isn’t around to see what came out of that 7.5 foot box in the library. The one that said Made in China.
57 live Christmas trees (three years there were tree disasters that required the purchase of a second tree), almost all cut down in the forest or on the farm, a few bought off lots. This marks the end, at least temporarily, of an era. A way of life. Schlepping through the cold with runny noses, much whining and obsessing about which tree- that pricey but sturdy Fraser Fir? This soft and gentle White Pine? Is that tree tall enough? Almost always, we grossly underestimated the height- they grew on the roof of the car!
So, why change this year? This year the logistics of life and time have caught up with me. We’re coming up one weekend short so with three weekends left? This one coming is way too soon to put up a fresh tree. The next we go to The Bud and Jan Show and the next- and last before Christmas- we have the Black Tie and Pajama BCMA (all together now: Book Club, My Ass!) Annual Christmas and Poker Party.
Then the Snarl is home and Christmas is here. We will go to church and have our traditional Lobster Bisque on Christmas Eve and we’ll dig through stockings, eat Egg Dump and watch the cats go berserk Christmas Morn. And then, oddly enough, we will get on a plane Christmas Night to head south to the Land of the 3-dimensional Polar Bear for 10 days of rest and relaxation.
I just don’t see a window of opportunity to freeze, stomp, cut, curse, drag, tip, tilt and pull the cats out of the real deal, do you? And those lights! No one will EVER help with the lights. And I curse the Japanese when I put up lights. Curse them, I say! And then, who would take the tree down? Why, McCloud and Sophie! Left to their own devices, the cats would water it in a fit of pique because we’ve left them again. They would knock off 90 year old hand blown German glass ornaments. Finally, in our absence, they would bring it down.
Today Rich and I raced out in one hour and cruised Home Depot, Lowe’s and Sam’s Club. With no one else in the stores at 11am we made short work of it and headed back to Home Depot where we had spied our favorite. Our first choice in fake trees.
In a few days, when all is said and done, I’ll let you be the judge. Last year versus this year. In the meantime, which way do you lean? The fresh, clean scent of pine and sap and all the work that goes along with it? Or 2164 bottle brush green tips that look surprisingly real. And a thousand points of pre-installed light.