Holiday Trees
It sure is pretty out here in the woods this time of year. The white ice of the lake backs up against the shore; white frost adorns the trees.
I have been sick with flu for a week, and I am about to spend New Year's Eve alone so I won't make anyone else sick. However, I can't think of a gracious way to whine about my troubles when there is so much dreadful news of death and horror coming in from the rest of the world, so I'm going to talk about trees instead: holiday trees.
This year my older niecie wanted to select her grandparents' Christmas tree, so my dad took her to a tree farm, and she picked out a big tree, and they brought it home in Dad's swank covered trailer. Dad and I carried the tree inside. Dad, Mom, and I put the tree up, but it wouldn't stand up straight! Mom and I had to hold the tree in position while Dad wired it to one of the beams that support the roof, and then we'd step back, look it over, and readjust.
Dad and I both have bad backs. I spent the next hour or so lying around with an ice pack, and Dad and Mom helped the niecies decorate the tree. They were finished before I knew it! I wasn't even done with my ice pack, and they had the entire tree decorated. Dad had to walk with a cane for the next three days, so I felt like a real wuss for lying around icing my back instead of helping with the tree until I needed my walking stick to get around. I swore to myself that next year I'm buying a four foot artificial tree made out of turkey feathers dyed pink. (I saw one in the newspaper.)
Our family has quite a few Christmas tree stories. My parents' favorite is the time I pulled the tree over on top of myself when I was two or three years old. Despite my peril, Dad couldn't stop laughing even while trying to find his only daughter under the branches.
This year Dad told me a new story. Once he and his father decided that their Christmas tree would be a cedar that was growing in a nearby ditch. I have since learned that cedars from ditches are nearly iconic in Iowa, a common tree for people who don't want to pay anything. Because ditches are part of the public right-of-way rather than private property, nobody owns anything growing in the ditches. Just this year a friend complained to me that some coworkers were very proud of themselves for taking a ditch cedar and setting it up at the office, where it gave off an unholy stink and made the whole building smell so bad that they received numerous complaints, all of which they blissfully ignored in their joy over having a fresh tree that didn't cost them a red cent.
So Dad and Grandpa wanted a ditch cedar. It was right in front of somebody's house, so even though it was technically not the property of the people in the house, Dad and Grandpa didn't want them to see them taking the tree. They tried to work fast. They cut down the tree, tossed it in the back of the pickup, and took off. The tree immediately fell out onto the road. So much for stealth. They picked it up, tossed it back in, and took off, but the darn thing fell out again. At this point they finally figured out that they needed to pack it so the heavy end was next to the cab, with the top of the tree sticking out the back of the truck. They threw the tree in the right way, took off, and made it home without detection.
However, the saga did not end there. Grandma was not at all happy about having a cedar for a Christmas tree. Not only are they rather scruffy trees, but more importantly, they drop needles and make a big mess. Grandma wanted that tree gone, but Grandpa promised that it wouldn't make a mess, and it would be a fine Christmas tree. Grandma caved in, and they decorated the tree, but three days later Grandma declared that there were far too many cedar needles on the carpet, and the tree had to go.
This year as the days went by, I increasingly dreaded the day after Christmas and the removal of our big, heavy tree. That fateful morning I slept in a little--not on purpose--and awoke to the sound of a handsaw. Dad was sawing the Christmas tree into pieces so it would be easy to carry out of the house! My dad is so smart. It's good to be a redneck.
I have been sick with flu for a week, and I am about to spend New Year's Eve alone so I won't make anyone else sick. However, I can't think of a gracious way to whine about my troubles when there is so much dreadful news of death and horror coming in from the rest of the world, so I'm going to talk about trees instead: holiday trees.
This year my older niecie wanted to select her grandparents' Christmas tree, so my dad took her to a tree farm, and she picked out a big tree, and they brought it home in Dad's swank covered trailer. Dad and I carried the tree inside. Dad, Mom, and I put the tree up, but it wouldn't stand up straight! Mom and I had to hold the tree in position while Dad wired it to one of the beams that support the roof, and then we'd step back, look it over, and readjust.
Dad and I both have bad backs. I spent the next hour or so lying around with an ice pack, and Dad and Mom helped the niecies decorate the tree. They were finished before I knew it! I wasn't even done with my ice pack, and they had the entire tree decorated. Dad had to walk with a cane for the next three days, so I felt like a real wuss for lying around icing my back instead of helping with the tree until I needed my walking stick to get around. I swore to myself that next year I'm buying a four foot artificial tree made out of turkey feathers dyed pink. (I saw one in the newspaper.)
Our family has quite a few Christmas tree stories. My parents' favorite is the time I pulled the tree over on top of myself when I was two or three years old. Despite my peril, Dad couldn't stop laughing even while trying to find his only daughter under the branches.
This year Dad told me a new story. Once he and his father decided that their Christmas tree would be a cedar that was growing in a nearby ditch. I have since learned that cedars from ditches are nearly iconic in Iowa, a common tree for people who don't want to pay anything. Because ditches are part of the public right-of-way rather than private property, nobody owns anything growing in the ditches. Just this year a friend complained to me that some coworkers were very proud of themselves for taking a ditch cedar and setting it up at the office, where it gave off an unholy stink and made the whole building smell so bad that they received numerous complaints, all of which they blissfully ignored in their joy over having a fresh tree that didn't cost them a red cent.
So Dad and Grandpa wanted a ditch cedar. It was right in front of somebody's house, so even though it was technically not the property of the people in the house, Dad and Grandpa didn't want them to see them taking the tree. They tried to work fast. They cut down the tree, tossed it in the back of the pickup, and took off. The tree immediately fell out onto the road. So much for stealth. They picked it up, tossed it back in, and took off, but the darn thing fell out again. At this point they finally figured out that they needed to pack it so the heavy end was next to the cab, with the top of the tree sticking out the back of the truck. They threw the tree in the right way, took off, and made it home without detection.
However, the saga did not end there. Grandma was not at all happy about having a cedar for a Christmas tree. Not only are they rather scruffy trees, but more importantly, they drop needles and make a big mess. Grandma wanted that tree gone, but Grandpa promised that it wouldn't make a mess, and it would be a fine Christmas tree. Grandma caved in, and they decorated the tree, but three days later Grandma declared that there were far too many cedar needles on the carpet, and the tree had to go.
This year as the days went by, I increasingly dreaded the day after Christmas and the removal of our big, heavy tree. That fateful morning I slept in a little--not on purpose--and awoke to the sound of a handsaw. Dad was sawing the Christmas tree into pieces so it would be easy to carry out of the house! My dad is so smart. It's good to be a redneck.
Labels: anecdotes
posted by Margo at 10:37 AM
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