There is something about a Christmas tree... The tree has always been my favorite part of Christmas, even as a child. I remember laying under the tree in the evening, looking up into the lights and smelling that real tree smell that always meant Christmas. There is just something about the tree...
I have a long history of being completely ridiculous about the Christmas tree each year... For many years, with my first husband, we would go into the woods and cut down a real tree. I would then spend days getting the lights on just right, and finally garland and ornaments. He usually helped by laying on the couch with a box of ornaments on his chest. The fact was that I was always so particular that no one could help me. I took a picture every year of those trees... some were crooked, some skinny or missing branches, but every year it would take my breath away when the tree was fully decorated and lit.
There are plenty of stories from years of "real" trees... the one that crashed at 2am because it was so crooked it would not stay in the stand; the one that was over 8 ft. tall, that had 9 strings of lights when complete that blew out their fuses about 5 mins after I turned them on (duh, Jen, they can't all be one continuous string); the year that I was pregnant and it took forever to get the lights on because I was tired from going up and down the ladder so much, and my stomach was in my way!
O loves the Christmas tree, too. She could not have been more excited about decorating the tree... I have to say I am less excited for me and more excited for her. You see, I gave in two years ago and bought a "fake" tree...prelit with beautiful white lights and a perfectly round 7 feet tall. O does not care one way or the other if the tree is real or fake...she was putting ornaments on the same two feet at the bottom of the front (as I was moving them to other places) just as fast as she could take them out of the boxes. She was in her glory! And she has continued to take them off and put them back on every day since we decorated the tree...
Me? I have to admit, the fake tree makes me a little sad. I will say that with the exception of almost killing myself getting it up the basement stairs, you can't beat the ease of putting the three pieces together and plugging it in...whalah, beautiful tree! However, as I sit by the tree each night I can't help but miss my "real" trees from the past, in all of their imperfect perfectness. There is something about a tall, skinny, not-so-perfect tree when you get it all dressed up in the most beautiful of lights and ornaments, that just makes it better for being imperfect to start with. And the smell...I wish I could smell that real tree in my house.
Why don't I go back to a real tree? I have to admit that my practical side is overruling the sentimental side... Although maybe I'll get a little tree next year, a real one, for my bedroom? Perhaps just to serve as a reminder that perfection is overrated, and harder to achieve, and that you can make something beautiful out of the most ordinary of things.
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