Thursday, December 3, 2009

The Tree?

My horrible, horrible office in Rock City, IL is done!!! I will never have to talk to that crazy agent again - or at least I hope not! I put in enough OT this week to take off my Friday. So, I think I will do that!

Usually, we put our Christmas decorations up the day of my birthday - or the weekend - sometime around that. We have been doing that ever since I can remember. I am guessing that Mom & Dad started that so I would feel like my birthday was it's own day - and not just lumped into Christmas. So maybe I will just spend a leisurely day decorating.

Slight problem. I hate our Christmas tree. I have had this same artificial tree since 1994. It is at least that old since Mom helped me pick it out at the after Christmas sales. It has lost needles and everything else - it's almost a Charlie Brown tree.

I am hoping that I can talk Chris into a real tree this year.

I remember when I was little - our family would get all bundled up and squish in the volare station wagon (or was it the blue bomb then?) and drive out to Short's farm. They had a nice Christmas tree farm somewhere out by Wapella. We would cut the tree down (after a good hour of traipsing thru the snow up to our knees and freezing) - strap it to the roof - and drive home. Then it would sit in a bucket of water on the front porch for a couple of days (Dad acted like it was something scientific). At some point, Dad would cut off the end - bring it in - and it would begin to loose needles until Christmas. The ones left on the tree would stab you as you walked past - almost jumping off the tree like javelins. Post Christmas - the kids would spend a good hour picking the needles out of carpet so they wouldn't ruin mom's vacuum. It was tradition - it smelled good - and I miss that.

I tried to recreate that for the three older kids. Now, Mel was NO dad like my dad. He couldn't do a thing - so it was all me. I don't think Mel even went with us when we picked out the tree. I am sure he had some wonderful excuse. Anyhow - EVERY single time I picked out a tree - the stupid trunk was crooked. It would fall over every year - spewing water all over the carpet. So - every year - we would have rope tying it to my curtain rods or whatever else else I could find to prop it up. But, it was the thought that counted? Don't ask the kids that - I don't think they appreciated the effort at all...

At some point, I decided enough was enough. I also believe that Grandmother finally scolded and warned me enough about fires and Christmas trees that I caved. And I talked Mom into shopping with me.

So that's the history of the tree. And for some ridiculous reason, I think I am ready to try again with the real tree. The two little girls certainly need to experience Mom's expertise of tree picking...

Poor Chris...

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