When Jeff figured out that the time he needed to be in Sweden was during the run-up to Christmas, I was not particularly happy. The holiday season is one of my favorite times of year, and I wanted him to be around to share it with me. I was also exceptionally upset about the Christmas tree I doubted I was going to be able to get. Last year, Jeff and I went out and cut down our own tree. It was all quite an adventure trying to get it home, get it in the house, get it in the stand, and get it stable (it fell over one day after already being fully decorated). So realistically it seemed there was no way I'd be able to handle this all by myself, and I refused to go the artificial route out of fear that I'd be stuck with a fake one forever. I would just have to be tree-less this year.
So on Saturday, I set out to decorate for Christmas sans tree. I hung our handmade Santa stockings on our ice-cube snowman stocking holders. I got out the creche I had bought in Germany. I put out candles and figurines. And it all looked nice. But it also looked incomplete.
So on Sunday, I got up, put on windsuit pants, a snow jacket, and gloves and headed out before I could think clearly to a parking lot I'd seen on my way to the grocery the day before where trees were being sold for $25. Pulling into the lot, I walked into the fenced-in enclosure, where I was the only customer. I told the man selling the trees that I wanted a small, easy to handle tree. So he pulls one out that fits my description, I look at it for half a second and decide it's a bit too small, a bit too Charlie Brown. He shows me another slightly bigger and then another. They're all okay, but just don't feel right. So then he pulls one out that's perfect. It's full and straight and even has little pinecones on it. I decide that it's the one but look at a few more just to be sure. Certain that I'd picked the right one, I pay and let the man load it into my trunk. I then drive home with one eye in the rearview mirror the whole time to make sure my tree doesn't fall out on the Beltway.
Fortunately, the tree makes it with no problem, and I find a parking spot in our lot that lines up perfectly with our back porch. All I have to do is get the tree out of the trunk and over to our door. So I begin to pull on it. Then I begin to pull harder. Then I re-grasp, bend my knees, and really pull. I probably should have tried to pick up the tree myself before I bought it. It's heavy. Really heavy. Finally after some serious heave-ho-ing, I get it out of the trunk. I then grab it by its trunk and drag it over to our patio, where I hoist it onto the picnic table. Now what, I think?
Knowing that I ultimately had to get the tree standing up, I let myself into the house, grab the tree stand, and come back outside to evaluate. I stand it up for a minute, remember how heavy it is, and decide there's no way I can lift it into the stand and then tighten the stand without ending up under the tree. I decide the best method is to put the tree stand on with the tree laying on the picnic table. Clever, huh? Since I did pick a tree with a fairly straight trunk this works out pretty well, but when I stand it up, it's not quite perfectly upright. So I bend down and slightly loosen the stand with one hand while desperately holding on to the tree with another. My body is mashed into the tree to keep it from falling, and I have some nice scratches on my face and neck and arms to prove it. After some adjusting, little tiny bits at a time so that I don't ever have to support too much weight at once and end up crushed under the Christmas tree, I get it up straight and it looks good. It seems steady too as I give it a few pushes and shoves, but being a little nervous, I leave it out on the backporch for an hour to make sure it doesn't topple over.
After an hour, I'm satisfied with the stability of the tree and decide it's time to bring it inside. I lay down an old blanket between back door and the corner where the tree is to be located, and then go to pick up the tree with the stand attached. Damn, it's still heavy. With some straining and heaving, I somehow manage to get it inside and in the corner and then all I'm left to do is twist it until the best side is showing. Stepping back, I take a look at the tree and realize why it was so heavy. The tree is only a few inches from the ceiling, and it's incredibly full. It's a big, beautiful Christmas tree. And it smells so delicious. The whole house radiates Christmas. Now tonight, I'll light and decorate it, and with the snow coming down outside, it will really feel like Christmas is on its way.
In summary:
1. It's hard to judge the size of a Christmas tree in a parking lot. In a big open area, the tree looks much smaller than it does in a closed in room.
2. Where there's a will, there's a way.
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