TREE-ting Myself

I had planned to hunt deer Saturday morning, but queezies from Friday evening continued Saturday morning and held hands with stomach cramps and skitters. Needless to say, I spent Saturday inside, confined. I decided to decorate my thirty year old artificial Christmas tree by undertaking the Herculean task of dragging cardboard boxes and plastic tubs filled with decorations into the living room.

We purchased it after my uncle Teddy died. Our custom had been for us to go together and cut a real pine for my wife Cindy and my grandmother Rebecca Miner. It was no longer felt the same and I just couldn’t carry on that tradition.

Each manufactured limb had to be inserted into the metal pole trunk and each branch had to be spread out to make the branches look “real.” Stringing lights, white iridescent rope garland, and finally, I began to hang the family’s large collection of handmade, passed-down heirlooms, and other ornaments gathered over the many years.

The only ornaments no longer hung on my tree are those that were given to my kids. Each year, Cindy and I would buy new ornaments for each child. When they were old enough, they were responsible to hang them on the tree and to store them safely until the following year. As each child got married, their ornaments left home with them to decorate their tree in their new home. They took part of their Christmas tradition with them.

But don’t worry. There still remained more than enough ornaments to fill the tree to overflowing. There is more of a problem to try and find space for them all. Some years it’s difficult to see the green “pine” needles among the dangling ornamentation. There’s a method to decorating the old holiday bush. The heaviest cloisonné bells and balls are placed nearer the “trunk” where the branches are thicker. The lightest and least breakable hang nearer the bottom where visiting children and my cat Willow can’t wreak havoc and cause breakage.

Between rest periods, I managed to empty almost half of the tubs and boxes. I’ll have to move some furniture so I can hang more ornaments on the back of the tree or just give up when the front and side branches are completely filled.

On a side note, I returned the huge tree storage tub to the bedroom. After I replaced some items to store back inside the tub, its lid fell and became wedged against a dresser and the door as I left. I spent the next 45 minutes trying to unwedge the lid to reenter the bedroom and nearly lost an arm in the process.

Keeping the Christmas spirit alive, “Bah, humbug.”