Merry Christmas, And A Freaky Tree To All

Our left-leaning Christmas tree, and there's nothing liberal about it.

Our left-leaning Christmas tree, and there’s nothing liberal about it.

We dragged the Christmas tree into the house last night and got it into the stand. And believe me, that was enough for one night.

The Husband got a nice specimen, a seven-foot Frasier fir, except it’s a bit shorter than that, what with trimming the bottom to fit the stand and the top to accept the gold star. But it’s a nice, fluffy tree that smells piney (should you say that a fir smells like a pine?) and stands reasonably straight, with the helps of two clamps assisting the four screw anchors that are pretty much stripped and not able to do their job anymore. Fortunately, I have a big tree skirt that hides the construction project around the base.

Tonight I will take out all the old decorations, bought and gifted to us through the years from friends, our travels, art shows and holiday-themed stores. There are dime-store icicles, crystal angels, paper maché globes, woolen dolls, tin toys and odd holiday souvenirs in the boxes and bags under the bed, along with light strings, a big brass star topper and of course, a gazillion of those little metal hook things to hang all this stuff. And being a “mixed” family, there’s Grandma’s small brass menorah, powered by generations of candles before mine.

It’s all out and done, and I have to admit, the tree is still looking a little cattywampus. The Husband suggests we tell people it had a hard life, growing up as it did on the side of a windblown mountain (which would handily explain why it looks like it’s leaning to the left) but now it’s lucky enough to live in our dining room, graced in handmade and collected memories that didn’t cost a fortune, but are each worth the price of an achy back when they are in their proper place.

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