NOT THE REAL THING

Sad.  Disappointed. Resigned.  No, I'm not still talking about the election (at least not in this post), I'm talking about purchasing our first artificial Christmas tree in our 44-year marriage.  We are Christmas tree traditionalists and we have scorned and mocked those who years ago "went artificial".  Nope!  We'd never!

Well...we did.

For 30 years we have gone to the same Christmas tree farm in the country to cut our own tree.  The farm was a 40-acre wood owned by a retired couple who grew the trees as a labor of love, enjoying the outdoors together and tending their crop of Nobles and Fraser Firs.  It was our family tradition to go the Saturday after Thanksgiving to tromp over wet or snowy or frozen ground to find "just the right tree". We usually ended up with the first one we saw closest to the truck, but we had to explore far and wide to be sure there were no others better.  After it was cut and hauled back to the truck, we made our way to the outdoor shelter where the owners had a roaring fire going and a kettle of hot cider ready to pour.  We'd sip our cider sitting on cedar logs while Hub paid for the tree -- $20.00 for any tree of any size.  We first went there when Son One was a year old.  Last year was our last trip, with both of our sons now grown with us and a daughter-in-law and two granddaughters in tow.  The owners told us then that it would be their last year.  They are in declining health (although still remarkably agile for being 90-someting!) and their children and grandchildren were not interested in opening the property for tree sales.  We assume one day it will all be sold to a developer and new houses will stand where the trees once grew; such is the way of progress.

Hub and I loved the family tradition of going there, but the "hassle-factor" of a real tree was also real. We said for the past number of years that when the tree farm closed, we wouldn't hunt for another (hating the commercialized "all-the-trees-in-straight-rows with a Santa and a mini-train and gift shop" type of tree farm that is so common.)  We said, "Maybe it will be time to get an artificial tree at some point."

So that's what we did this year.  A plastic tree in a box.  Hub bought it at Costco, brought it home and had it up in about 15 minutes, with LED lights pre-installed that you can set to being all white, all colors, or alternating between the two.   As the parts clicked into each other and the branches fell into perfect alignment, my heart started to sink.  This is NOT what a Christmas tree should do, look like, or smell like (nothing.)  I felt a big letdown and was very sad and started to complain....

Then Hub reminded me of his 44 years of Christmas tree experiences -- driving to the farm, finding a tree, cutting it down, hauling it to the truck, securing it either on top or in the bed; driving home and unloading it into a bucket of water on the patio, a week or so later retrieving it from the bucket that sometimes was frozen solid, so thawing it first; then carrying it up to the back deck and sawing the trunk off to the appropriate height, wrestling it into the house and through three rooms to the living room; setting it in the stand, getting it straight and positioned to best aesthetic effect; stringing the lights that only rarely cooperated by having weathered the attic still functioning -- full strings burned out for no reason, half strings lit, some lit, then going out once they were on the tree; shopping for and spending a fortune on guaranteed-to-stay-lit LED lights that I complained about to no end because I found them intense and "dead", not sparkly like tree lights should be; then putting water in the tree stand base, usually spilling it on the floor and having to wipe up the spills...then asking me daily if I remembered to water the tree (most of the time I did; not always.)  I joined in during the hanging of the ornaments and the daily pleasure of enjoying the magic of smelling a real tree in my house.  I guess I had the easier end of the 'real tree' deal.

So, this year we have a fake tree.  Son Two sent me a video on Facebook about the environmental damage of manufacturing, transporting, and disposing of plastic trees compared to real ones, which only made me feel worse (thanks, kid) considering our concern for climate change, but here we are anyway with a plastic tree in the living room.

Our choice of a real tree was often met with a quizzical expression by friends who found it to be rather strange to choose a tree with so many big spaces and goofy branches, but we loved our old Nobles and Frasers that allowed lots of room for our dangly ornaments collected over the years reflecting the interests and travels of each family member for that year.  Now there is no "dangling" space.   This tree is perfectly (traditionally) shaped and lit.  I've cut way back on my old ornaments and replaced them with others I can just shove in between the branches and let them rest there.  I use a remote control to switch the lighting between all white and colors, depending on my mood.  There is no spilled water on our newly refinished wood floors.

And here's the thing: I have a whole forest of fir trees on our property where I can cut greens for the mantel and table top.  I have a live holly tree to cut sprigs for decorating homemade swags. I will get some evergreen scent in my home.   Family will gather.  We will reminisce about the old tree farm.  Our sons will not love our tree (they found real ones at other places for their homes), but they will love us and all the rest of our traditions that are still firmly in place.  Christmas will happen.

And Hub will be happy when the tree comes down in three sections and back in the box instead of a messy haul-out through the house, down the stairs,  and a long drag to the brush pile at the back of our property.  And we won't have to vacuum up stray, stuck in the carpet, needles for weeks.

O!  Plastic Christmas Tree!  How lovely are thy branches....


At least, that's the view from here...