Christmas Tree Adventure

We got our Christmas tree in early December, on my oldest daughter's 21st birthday, per her request. Otherwise, we would have been bartering with Daddy for weeks to please, please, please be able to get our tree early!!! The Christmas tree tradition he was indoctrinated in during his childhood, espoused that the parents got the tree, decorated said tree and the whole living room behind closed doors, and 'ta da', on Christmas Eve the whole magical room was unveiled. Hmmm. Special tradition. Nice and all - but definitely not appealing to the women of this household.

Every year he wants to wait that long and - poor guy - every year he loses out to the female horde in his home and graciously gives in to our wishes. For of course we girls want the tree up as soon as possible, otherwise how could we fully enter into the joy of the season? How could we properly get into the lit-candle mood of advent? Without a tree, how could we sing Christmas carols during family devotions? How could we munch on holiday cookies and candy canes outside of the proper atmosphere of a glittering and ribbon bedecked tree?! Makes no sense.

So, we usually get our tree early - give or take a couple of weekends - depending on our persuasiveness that particular year.

We loaded up the Suburban in the pouring down rain with tarp and rope and gloves and handsaw and drove past all of the signs advertising Christmas tree farms practically right in our backyard and drove miles away to discover a new - cheap - tree farm. We found one with a sign that advertised selected red ribbon trees for only $10. That would qualify as cheap.

We started our tramp through the trees, spreading out like frost on a cold window, each exclaiming over the perfect tree - over here! I quickly surmised why they were cheap, for the trees had such expanded girths they had outgrown most houses. But year after year we are tempted by giant trees, so that was not a deterrent for us. We chose our tree, sawed it down, and carried it to the waiting Suburban. It didn't fit inside. It barely fit on the roof of the car though we tied it down and drove off with our arms out the windows holding it in place. I'm sure we looked like the Beverly Hillbillies.

We hung blankets to protect our new front door as we shoved and heaved the tree into our living room. Ahhh. The hard work was behind us - let the fun begin! I warmly contemplated how early in the season we'd managed to whine our way to a tree!

I've never been so deceived in my smug complacency.

For now the second yearly debate began...where to place the Christmas tree! Daddy wants the tree in the middle of the room - I kid you not - for clearly that way everybody gets a good view of the twinkly lights. Every year he wants this. Every year we girls trample all over his fanciful fantasy with derision and scorn and passive aggressive behavior, for the tree clearly must go in its proper place in front of the window. Clearly.

This year something came over me and I said - I really did - I said go ahead and try it where you would like it. Then I hid in the kitchen doing clean-up while he and the girls dismantled and disarranged the whole living room to experiment with his tree fantasy.

To properly set the scene, you must know that my oldest daughter had assisted me in thoroughly decorating the large living room just the day before. Displays of snowmen, creches and candles, our large Christmas book collection, holiday villages, bowls of sparkly colored balls nestled in green moss covered every surface, and it was beautiful. And it was almost all dismantled as couches and chairs and trunks and coffee tables and end tables were all moved around to accommodate the intruding fat tree.

Well, he got it to its imagined place of triumph. From the kitchen I heard him say: "Hmmm, it doesn't quite work there." I was still in the kitchen, yes. I sometimes find it easier to maintain a godly, gracious demeanor - facade - if I am not directly tempted by watching. It is a whole lot less painful than biting my tongue.

After about an hour of finagling, back the tree went to its properly designated-before-creation place of triumph and beauty in front of the window. I came out of the kitchen, and we girls all heaved a sigh of relief. I consoled myself with the knowledge that surely, now, this temptation to dilly dally around with the tree will be forever nipped in the nappies and we'll not have to deal with this particular trial again in future. At least I have a whole year to be free of this particular worry.

Onward to the decorating. We left the tree out a bit from the window for ease of decorating,
added a bit of water for the thirsty tree, and began the tradition of winding the white lights about the tree while we sipped our hot spiced cider. Until we ran out of lights. This also is a yearly family tradition. Once back from the store, we finished up the lights, added wide red ribbon wrapped around the tree, and gold, red, and white ornaments. It was gorgeous. My eldest daughter kept a tight rein on the wilder, less beautiful ornaments, for she was to be the hostess of her Bible study's Christmas party this year. Any ragged ornament outside her theme was snatched off the tree and we were informed it could go back on after the party. This whole decorating thing with her has been quite fun as she is a minimalist - and I - well, I am a 'maximalist.'

The tree is now all decorated and it is time to move it back into its place against the window. We had the heavy metal stand placed on a three foot piece of plywood to protect our new floors and as we slid the tree home - you guessed it - the water sloshed out onto the board, swam to the edges and leaked under the board. Oh Oh. Of course we could not leave the water under the board for the whole month of December. (Although tempting)

Now the fun really began. Hubby had a plan. Remember the large girth of this tree - and imagine its weight. He marshaled his troops, we all had our assignments: one hold the tree, one slide the plastic under the board, one dry the floor and the board, and he would tilt the board to accommodate all. You know what happened. We did dry the floor, we did get the plastic under the board, but the tree fell over, twice, in the process and all of our decorating came undone. About fifteen ornaments crashed onto the bare floor and broke and the lovely red ribbon hung in bedraggled rows reminiscent of a harlot after a long night.

We decorated again. And we put the living room back in order again. The amazing truth is that all of this happened in just one afternoon and evening. We kept our humor - you must agree, it was all really quite laughable, and it has been fun sharing with you our tree trimming escapade. Debacle. Adventure!