Yesterday, when we were supposed to get our Christmas tree, Doug cleared his afternoon calendar in honor of the occasion - a rare event, sad to say - he is a workaholic. But wasn't that incredibly nice of him? This year, thought I, we won't screw up and end up with no tree until the last minute. This year we'll do it right. Have the tree up and decorated in time for Adeline's arrival home from college. I had a late-morning appointment, two towns over, but that certainly didn't get in the way as I was out of there by 12:30. Before heading home, I figured I had time to make a "quick stop" at Sugarbeads, the bead and jewelry supply store, two towns over in the opposite direction, and Doug was fine with that. It helps that he works from home, so he was getting plenty done while he waited for me. Three hours later (I do love pawing through pearls, and rhinestones, and all sorts of sterling silver goodies), I finally headed home. But I did make just one more "quick stop" to pick up my new spectacles. Apparently, I wasn't the only one who decided to visit the optometrist, but waiting was better than leaving, since I was already there. By the time sun was setting, and did I mention by now it was also raining, I was finally truly on my way home. Way too late, and dark, and wet to get a tree. I'm feeling a little guilty. I'm trying not to - there have been many years of me doing the waiting while hubby takes care of "just one more thing" at work. And guess how long his "just five minutes" lasts? LOL. He, being the sweetie he is, was totally understanding and pointed out that the bead store for me, is like the hardware store for him. This served the dual purpose of making me feel better and getting him off the hook for all the time and money he spends (wastes?) at the True Value in Bethel.We are now scheduled to get our tree on Saturday. Along with two zillion other people, no doubt. The upside is that I am letting go of the notion that we have to visit that particular farm that's two towns over and you cut your own tree. I'd still like fresh cut - it's not that hard - but I'm willing to search close to home. And I'll try not to be too picky. I always wanted Adeline to have happy memories of going to cut the tree - but she HATES IT, doesn't even come along, because of the years when I endlessly rejected tree after tree, in search of the "perfect" (a.k.a. non-existent) one. And I'm not just talking about having to see all the trees at a particular lot. We also had to drive to five or so places one memorable year, while it got darker and darker and colder and colder. There were plenty of fun years, but guess which year goes down in family history? When that story gets trotted out, I re-tell the story of the year that Doug was out of town on business and a very young Adeline and I went and cut down our tree all by ourselves. It was fun and we were very proud.
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We're still ahead of the game. There have been years when we didn't put the tree up until Christmas Eve, and not because we were observing a charming tradition, a la Dana's description of the Olden Days (see comments on most recent post). And Doug loves the lights so much that he hates to take the tree down. I'm one of those "it's a new year" types, and I want it gone by the time we've finished the twelve days of Christmas, if not sooner. But he's the muscles who actually does the work, so he gets his way. One year, the tree was still up for Valentine's Day. He took it down just in time to save me the embarrassment of having it up for Saint Patrick's Day. No kidding.Photos:
Adeline at the Christmas Tree, 2003
Morna meets with Santa, circa 1952.