Let's Talk About...Christmas trees

Ok. We put up our Christmas tree this past weekend. When I say "put up our Christmas tree," I mean it is upright with lights on it. Most of the lights even work. We consider that a victory.

We used to put up a live tree every year. Two of them. One in the living room and one in the family room. Also a small tree in each of the kids' rooms. I was an overachiever, I know. I can't imagine how I did that. I am now down to one now.

We eventually decided it was environmentally irresponsible to kill trees and fill landfills so we purchased an artificial tree. An artificial tree removed the need to cut off the trunk, balance it in one of those Christmas tree stands, which inevitably became rusty and leaky, and then water it every day. An artificial tree was like moving from a wringer washer to a front loader. The biggest downside is that it is fragrance-free. The biggest upside is everything else.

So, the annual process begins with moving all the furniture around resulting in some aching backs and an end table stuck in the middle of the room. However, I always get a lot of satisfaction from vacuuming the debris from that empty space that hasn't seen the light of day in a year.

Preparations completed, we then drag our tree up from the basement and start stringing lights. This can result in a make-or-break event in a marriage. No, husband, you don't just wind a string of lights around the outside of the tree like a candy cane. You must weave them in and out carefully. Right?

Naturally, several lights are burned out or missing altogether. That fancy light-fixer tool that you saw on TV worked once. Just once.

Eventually, we purchased an artificial tree with pre-strung lights. What a boon! You can just plug it in and you have instant Christmas. But, wait. Hold on. Not so fast.

First you have to figure out how to plug the top third into the middle third into the bottom third only then to realize the plug is on the opposite side of the tree from the power outlet.

Once we get the tree facing the right direction (I cannot ever tell the front from the back), and the lights are on, my husband considers the job done.

I, on the other hand, turn on some Christmas music and patiently straighten the akimbo branches. It's actually quite meditative until I hear, "Why are you doing the back of the tree? No one sees that." Sigh. Do I have to explain that?

Last weekend I asked my husband if he would bring up the giant Rubbermaid tub of ornaments. He turned to me and said, "We are going to put ornaments on it? I think it looks good with just lights."

So, I drag up one of the many many boxes, bins and tubs of decorations and begin my annual trip down Memory Lane. Each ornament has significance. Some come from my parents. Some are from our wedding. We have a "Baby's First Christmas" ornament for each child. We have the wooden ornaments we used to put on the bottom of the tree because they wouldn't break with the swish of a wagging tail or if a child hides under the tree to see the world through colored lights.

We have an ornament from every place we have ever visited. I am one of those people that finds Christmas ornaments in Mexico in July. I reminisce over the Eiffel Tower, the White House, the Governor's Mansion, an English phone booth, a Harry Potter sorting hat, red chiles, a Mardi Gras fleur-de-lis, and several Disney ornaments.

We have a sweet set of six delicate glass angels we love except they are so delicate that every year we put away one less angel. This year we are down to three. But my favorite kind of ornaments are those "art projects" the kids brought home long ago made out of dried pasta wheels and glitter with their smiling kindergarten faces in the middle.

And I dawdle over all those family ornaments. We have one of a family of mice with Santa caps on each family member with our names neatly printed on each mouse tummy. The problem is that we have one with one child, we have another with two children and we have many with three children. Do you put all of them up? My husband says no in deference to the youngest child(ren). I say yes. And so it goes...

Christmas trees are like a glowing glittering history of a life. They take time, patience and make a mess. But then you sit back and enjoy how beautiful it is.