We went to get our Christmas Tree last night. I remember last year realizing that it was likely the last time Precious Oldest would be with us to celebrate that tradition. (In fact, I recall getting a bit misty!) So this year to fill the void we had "Precious Middle"* come for dinner and to help pick out the tree. She's come with us before; it felt right, less forlorn. (* Editor's Note -I will post soon about my other daughters, "Precious Middle" and "Precious Eldest")
We used to do the whole Christmas Tree farm, hay ride, cut down your own tree shebang. But when the Precious Daughters got to a certain point in school what with the recitals, choirs, programs, sports, homework, and a Partridge in a Pear Tree? We gave up that particular tradition. I mean really? Who has that kind of time? So for intervening ten or so years we have supported a local Boy Scout troop that runs a Christmas Tree lot as a fundraiser. (My grandfather was an Eagle Scout, my father is an Eagle Scout, my brothers are Eagle Scouts, I married an Eagle Scout - are you getting the picture?) We always get a Fraser Fir. It is always about the same size. I don't know if it is the species or the stellar quality of this particular tree lot, but the trunk is always straight and the branches nicely spaced.
With all this lead in I'm sure you're wondering what glorious thrills make up this tradition. Erm, well, there aren't any. The whole thing takes about three minutes. No, really, go ahead and time us. On very cold years, by the time the Saint finds us on the lot after parking the car (because girls are too delicate to walk very far in the cold – SNORT), we’ll have already picked out tree out and some hapless Scout will be dragging it to be trimmed and bagged. And we pride ourselves on our speed. As in we take note of the time as we leap from the car and try to beat last year's record.
The only real hemming and hawing comes in with the naming. (What? You don't name your Christmas Trees?) I'm not sure how this tradition got started, but the girls name the tree. Something Spanish; alternating male and female. (Don't look at me, I think they get this from their father!) This year Precious Oldest had to be consulted by phone. Much discussion ensued. The verdict was in before I had written the check: Paco. Lovely, no?
SIGH. So anyhoo, Paco is still outside soaking his newly shorn trunk in a bucket of water. Some night this week we will commence with the annualthrow down putting the tree in the fucking stand; immediately followed by grounds for divorce stringing up the lights. Why do we do it? It's tradition damn it!
We used to do the whole Christmas Tree farm, hay ride, cut down your own tree shebang. But when the Precious Daughters got to a certain point in school what with the recitals, choirs, programs, sports, homework, and a Partridge in a Pear Tree? We gave up that particular tradition. I mean really? Who has that kind of time? So for intervening ten or so years we have supported a local Boy Scout troop that runs a Christmas Tree lot as a fundraiser. (My grandfather was an Eagle Scout, my father is an Eagle Scout, my brothers are Eagle Scouts, I married an Eagle Scout - are you getting the picture?) We always get a Fraser Fir. It is always about the same size. I don't know if it is the species or the stellar quality of this particular tree lot, but the trunk is always straight and the branches nicely spaced.
With all this lead in I'm sure you're wondering what glorious thrills make up this tradition. Erm, well, there aren't any. The whole thing takes about three minutes. No, really, go ahead and time us. On very cold years, by the time the Saint finds us on the lot after parking the car (because girls are too delicate to walk very far in the cold – SNORT), we’ll have already picked out tree out and some hapless Scout will be dragging it to be trimmed and bagged. And we pride ourselves on our speed. As in we take note of the time as we leap from the car and try to beat last year's record.
The only real hemming and hawing comes in with the naming. (What? You don't name your Christmas Trees?) I'm not sure how this tradition got started, but the girls name the tree. Something Spanish; alternating male and female. (Don't look at me, I think they get this from their father!) This year Precious Oldest had to be consulted by phone. Much discussion ensued. The verdict was in before I had written the check: Paco. Lovely, no?
SIGH. So anyhoo, Paco is still outside soaking his newly shorn trunk in a bucket of water. Some night this week we will commence with the annual
11 comments:
Totally confused here, but that's okay. It's my normal state. I'm comfortable this way.
And, question: How do you keep the older kids from completely sucking the joy out of your holidays? Not that I'm having a bad week or anything...
You name your trees? Brilliant.
..hold on, where did precious middle come from? I too am a little lost, however I can picture the Christmas tree scene as I used to go to the same lot (seriously, I bet we live a few miles apart) and the cast of characters was the same (sans mysterious, suddenly appearing middle child); also sans any children and husband. That is when our Christmas tradition went to shit, when I had to do it all by myself. Each year since I was abandoned to face this chore alone, the decorations and the effort has decreased to where I am contemplating decorating a house plant this year.
Maybe this snow will shake off my bah humbug attitude..or make it worse.
Hm. If you have an artificial tree, can you rename it every year or does it have to keep it's name?
I like the name Paco, (not that i would steal it or anything), but I need to know the rules before I name the fake one. I mean, if it's permanent, then I need to make sure I really, really like the name. ;-)
I love the post! I wish I could say that I was as efficient about picking the tree, but it's not my forte. It has to be perfect.
Anyway, love the post! Great job!
Asthmagirl
SC: Sorry I confused you and the Queen. I shall elaborate. And I'm working on a post about that whole joy sucking thingy. Hang in there!
Mary Alice: We like to think so
Queen: St. Michael's?
Hot: I checked with Precious Youngest. She said that, as with cars, "an artificial tree gets ONE NAME damn it." She's emphatic that way!
Asthma Girl: Welcome.
You got it! Same place, and I always got a Fraser Fir too. I have shifted to Home Depot as of late to save a little $ but do love the ease of going to the Scout lot. Thanks for the clarification on the additional daughters...nice to know I haven't completely lost my mind. Enjoy the concert..I haven't been to that new venue yet.
I have an artificial tree that already has the lights on it. We've had it for a few years now, and I like it. It's too dry here to have a real tree anyway.
But now, I need to think of a name for it. This is going to require some serious drinking...I mean, thinking.
DQ: Spooky. We might need to get together for a cocktail!
Sounds like a plan! I guarantee your anonymity if you will do the same for me, and you can teach me how to do the link things since I am a total dumbass about anything computer related. We could do PV or the restaurant by the HH and the used to be Amoco, now BP more north on SM Parkway...or really wherever! I think you can email me from my blog...don't know for sure.(told you, I am a dumbass) When time permits...let me know! (trying to keep this all unidentifiable to anyone but us as we are both so popular and attract stalkers and such)
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