It's time, at the various Smith family homes, to get into the holiday spirit. At this particular home, we're practicing doing things a little differently. We are definitely real tree sorts of people. Almost every year, we have put lights on a tree that was once (or that one time, still was) a living thing. We used to go back and forth between mommy years and daddy years for who got to select the tree. I liked full, conical, conventionally attractive trees, and he liked natural, airy, and preferably free trees. I would buy trees from lots, usually, and he would sometimes "acquire" them in ways I preferred not to ask about. The first time he brought down a spindly Doug fir kind of set the tone. I called it a Charlie Brown tree, while he made a point of showing how well the ornaments could dangle in space all the way through the tree. My more expensive trees were usually too thick to decorate all the way through, and in some places, the ornaments more lay on the branches than hung from them. We each had our preferences, and rarely did we deviate.
One year, when we were in California, we either procrastinated too long, or decided we didn't have enough Christmas spirit to get a tree, and we hung tiny ornaments in the ficus tree. It did not like the attention. To this day, it hates me for having strung lights in it that come on every night on a timer, year round. One year, I decided I wanted a throwback tree, and in homage to the aluminum trees of my childhood (my uncle had one that I thought was cool), I bought a cheap white fake tree from Wal-Mart. I braved the dirty looks from the Mr, and put it up in the living room. After that year, I was allowed to decorate it, but it became my "porch tree," especially in Charleston. The white plastic eventually yellowed like straw, and I donated it.
Ever since we moved back to Colorado, and bought the mountain property, our trees have come from the road up to the cabin, where it's private property. They are usually trees that need to move to keep the road, such as it is, passable as far as the truck can climb. Every year thus far, snows started late in the year, and some years we worried the snow would never come. This year it became impossible to drive up the hill far earlier than usual, and with the huge storms that came in last week, there is no way to get up to the usual culling sites. We even had a tree or two picked out by sight for this year's holiday, and they will have to wait until next year.
My daughter has switched to artificial trees, to accommodate allergies in her household. I think she has come to like them better too boot. This year, when I complained in her presence about not being able to get up the mountain for a real tree, she announced that she had an extra fake tree to loan me. One of her friends had off-loaded it to her garage. We don't know why they let it go. It's pre-lit, but the bulbs are incandescent. That's the only thing we can figure is wrong with it. It appears to be complete and functional. We put it up tonight, and instantly spun up all the cats. This is only Harvey's second Christmas tree, and last year we didn't dare hang ornaments on the one we put up. It's time to test his maturity, and to indulge my memories of youth.
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