We went down the mountain to Wine's Christmas Tree Farm to select and cut our tree today. We’ve been very fortunate over the years to always live
near a Christmas tree farm. And Husb is always happy to pick up a saw and go
get one (or two, now that he hauls one into his office).
For growing up so far apart in experiences (him on a farm,
me in an industrial town) we had somewhat similar Christmas experiences. Both
families didn’t put up a tree until Christmas Eve. In his case it was because
that’s when they took time out from farming to go out and cut it down. In my
case it was because trees were marked way down on Christmas Eve and my dad
could get one for very little money. He never took any of the kids with him; I
suspect that was because he could stop somewhere before or after for a little “Christmas
spirit.”
My Husb takes me along if I care to go, but I have to
understand that choosing a tree is serious business. It can’t be a “shrub” (branches
too tight together) or things won’t hang. It can’t have a really bad side because
we don’t put our tree in a corner. It shouldn’t be certain types of evergreen,
which I can never remember the names of. In other words, Husb knows what he
likes and that’s what we get. I’ll admit, some years we’ve had some gorgeous
trees!
This trip was pretty easy. Weather is chilly enough to be festive, not bitterly cold. Wine's had a fire going, pretty wreathes, hotdogs and drinks for sale, and plenty of hustling helpers. We chose a large (over 10 feet) tree for the house and a shorter one for his office. While we were waiting for the trees to be measured and wrapped (plastic netting to hold them in), I overheard a woman saying she had found Wine's on the Internet. She was reluctant to get a pre-cut tree this early for fear all the needles would be off by Christmas, but she didn't want to cut it herself either. She was as tickled with hers as I am with mine.
Although Husb and I both like decorating on Christmas Eve,
that’s no longer possible for two reasons. The reason everyone understands: our
schedules. The other reason is no one’s fault but our own. In both our first
house and this one we have had high ceilings. That means we can have big
trees—and we sometimes do. I think the maximum one year was 14 feet. The
smallest might have been 8 feet (which wouldn’t even have fit into the houses
we grew up in!). This year's size is on the upper end.
A large tree takes days
to decorate. Hauling boxes out of the basement. Husb hanging the lights. Unwrapping ornaments while I wax sentimental—our honeymoon! Yellowstone! Ireland!
Foggy (our first dog)! Husb rolling his eyes. And once all the ornaments are
unpacked and up, and the boxes put away, comes the most time-consuming part:
the tinsel.
We both like a tree that glitters. Tinsel (aka “icicles”)
hung on the branches throws light in a way nothing else can. But this is where
our traditions part ways. I come from a family that threw tinsel on (partly out
of exhaustion, I’m sure). But Husb likes his tinsel laid across the ends of the
branches, carefully and neatly. Until his latest job, tinsel-laying was his
responsibility. Two years ago I ended up doing it (he didn’t have time and I
missed having it). Last year I tried something new—red tinsel. Mistake! If
you’re a fan of tinsel, don’t do red (or any color)! It’s too heavy and doesn’t
flow like the silver stuff.
So we’ve cut the tree down today and we will put it up next weekend
(my cousin is coming and will help decorate—shh! She doesn’t know it yet!).
Maybe if she stays a few days I can make her the designated tinsel applier. Just not in red.
