To Tree or Not to Tree, that is the Question

JULIA SPENCER-FLEMING: Okay, it’s a fake question. I’ve always had a tree, even back when Ross and I were living together in DC (much to my parents’ chagrin) and we scavenged one from a lot near his law school that had them for suspiciously low prices.

 

In fact, a Christmas tree saved my marriage! About a decade in, Ross and I were having some real problems. Like, talk to lawyers problems. A couple weeks before Christmas that year, we went out to buy a fresh tree with our kids, then five and four. As we got home and began untying the tree from the top of the car, it started to snow, and the children were dancing around with excitement. 

 

The magic of the moment didn’t heal all wounds – there was still three years of couples counseling ahead – but we both realized we didn’t want to break up our little family, and we acted on that. We made it until death did us part. That’s a pretty big lift for a conifer.

 

So yes, I want a tree. I love to see one in the bay window of the living room, loaded with decorations, which, since the kids have moved out, have been veering toward a color-coordinated, Instagram style (as opposed to the plethora of macaroni, jigsaw piece and egg carton ornaments that came home year after year from school.) And we’ve always, always gotten a real tree – let’s face it, when you live in the Pine Tree State, it’s kind of a given.

 

But here’s the rub. In the past, picking out the tree was a family affair. Then it dwindled to me and the girls, then to me and one daughter, and now the only help I have is Bud DesRocher, the guy at the Lions tree lot who trims the trunk and loads it on the car for me. When I get it home, my assistants consist of two Shih Tzus and an elderly cat (who, by the way, is the reason we stopped using tinsel fifteen years ago. I’ll leave the details to your imagination.)

 

Getting it off the car roof isn’t too bad – I have a Honda Accord, thankfully, not a fifteen-foot-tall SUV. I’ve got a barn coat and deerskin gloves, so I can even hump it into the house. But have you ever tried to screw a real evergreen into a tree holder all by yourself? Dear readers, it’s like trying to clap with one hand. There are a limited number of tasks in this world that absolutely require two people, and setting up a live tree is one of them. 

 

Last year, my beautiful balsam sat in a bucket on the front porch for almost three weeks before Youngest came home and helped me install it in the living room. And no, it didn’t look like a cool natural outdoor decoration – it looked like a drunk had abandoned it between the tub of ice melt and my front door. 

 

I’ve told nearly all my friends the time has come for me to bow to reality and buy an artificial tree that I can set up and take down solo. Have I done this yet? No, I have not. Will I spend the next five Christmases saying the same thing and still getting a real tree? Undoubtedly. Or maybe I can go all the way back to the German custom of putting up and decorating the tree on Christmas Eve. I bet the kids can get one real cheap on their way over here at 5pm on December 24^th…

 

How about you, dear readers? Real, faux, or no tree?

Photos by JillWellington, Chance Agrella and Pexels, (Feerangestock.com)

Decorating for the Season

ROBERTA: So last week we got a peek at Jan's amazing Christmas tree and that got me thinking it would be fun to see everyone's decorations. Or if you don't decorate, you could tell us how you feel about that!

About eight years ago, a little cedar seeded itself next to our light post by the front walk. Over the past couple years it totally shot up and began to take over the post. John and I both agreed it had to come down, and then we had the bright idea of cutting it down to use as our Christmas tree this year. Of course, we've never trimmed the thing and it's lopsided because of the way the wind has whipped it around for eight years. And now it's even more lopsided because we had to trim a huge section in order to be able to watch TV. And it gives off a funny little odor, not that nice pine scent we're used to. (My sister thinks it's a specimen called a "stinking cedar". Really.) After seeing Jan's tree, this is just a little embarrassing.

There's the before photo with my woodsman at the ready.
and then here's the after--definitely got the Charlie Brown thing going. And PS, we decided to try a string of those low wattage, new-fangled bulbs this year. I kept thinking they couldn't really look blue...but they do. They are NOT growing on me.

What's up in your house this year?

HANK: OH, dear, Jonathan and I have a thing about holiday decorations. Here's the conversation:
Hank: Think we could have a Christmas tree this year?
Jonathan: Honey, we're Jewish.
Hank: Yeah, but we had one growing up. For a while. Until my mother decided to remember we were Jewish. But that was years later. And trees are so pretty! And festive. And they smell good.
Jonathan: But--
Hank: We could have just a little one. With all red satin bows and candy canes. Come on.
Jonathan: Honey? We're--
Hank: Yeah, I know. So how about one of those rosemary trees? You could just think of it as an herb garden. With red bows and candy canes on it.

As you can hear, this is a discussion in progress.

ROBERTA: Hank, I bet he knows by now that no discussion with you is ever quite finished:).

HALLIE: I usually put a green swag on the front door, and that's that. But our neighbors make up for us. Across the street there's lights everywhere and a goose on the front step dressed up like Santa. A few years ago they added a bowing blow up snowman which fortunately seems to have bitten the dust. Next door tasteful lights front, back and sides.

We have lovely neighbors and it's all very jolly, though I am grateful no one has a soundtrack going. Hanuka was so early this year it got away before I could even make potato pancakes.

ROSEMARY: I'm suffering from Christmas tree withdrawal. We're leaving for Rome on Dec 23 and it didn't make sense to put up a tree that we'd have to either take down before we went away or not get to enjoy for very long once we get back. (I did leave my tree up until February once but that's a long story.) I have white minilights on the fireplace and on a credenza all year long so this year I just added a few strands. Also bought swags and tied ribbons around them. And ...uh..baskets of pine cones. Ten dollars says I get a small tree in the next few days.
Here's a pic of last year's tree.

RHYS: I've just finished the enormous task of decorating the Christmas tree with one hand. Last year we gave in and bought an artificial tree for the first time. And I have to say that it looks gorgeous. But it doesn't smell. I'd even trade Roberta's stinky smelling cedar for it. One of the things I love about Christmas, is that outdoorsy pine smell. However, I just found out that Trader Joe's has all kinds of pine wreaths. So one of those over the mantelpiece, ought to make the room smells sufficiently Christmassy. And here is my photo of the dreaded artificial tree.

JAN: We live next door to a neighbor with unlimited resources who hires -- well I can only call him/her/it a professional Christmas light artist. The lights are massive, all in white, but every tree, every window, every gutter, and angle. And she's got some sort of full-size Nutcrackers at the door, and full-size Christmas people on the porch. People come from all over to see it.

But without the professional contractor, we do all right. This year my husband was inspired (maybe by next door) and put green lights on all the base/trunk of the trees and white lights on top. White on the bushes, its very pretty.

I bought the wreath for the door, but it actually has to be hung from the window above the door, so it isn't up yet. But you've all seen the tree -- my daughter also decorated the foyer, the family room, and the dining room. We even have reindeer towels in the bathroom.

ROBERTA: Hallie, I'm crazy about that goose. Ro and Rhys, your trees are lovely. Jan, I'm glad it's not a competition, our houses against yours! Jungle Red Readers, what's up in your house this year?

On a Very Sneezy Christmas

JAN: This is my Christmas tree. Isn't it beautiful? (say yes). I have a thing about Christmas trees, mostly because of my mother. When I was about seven or eight, the evil capitalists of the world introduced artificial Christmas trees, and my mother ran out and bought one. My mother was not normally an early adapter of new technology, but she was extremely frugal and saw this as a way of not having to buy new Christmas tree every year. (She also hated to clean up the pine needles.)

My brothers and I were devastated. We put up a big fuss about the fake Christmas tree. My mother was one tough lady who could easily blow off four whining children.

Did we want presents? she asked.

Of course.

Then shut up.

We did shut up, but I vowed never to have an artificial tree in my own home. So every year, my daughter and I go out and buy a new tree and we all decorate it. It's beautiful isn't it? (Say yes.)

Guess what?

I'm 99 percent sure I'm allergic to it.

Why? Because I left the room sneezing non stop when we put it up Sunday. And when I went back into the living room Monday morning, I started sneezing again. I wheezed all day Monday and Tuesday, sure I was coming down with something, but when I went out to the gym, felt terrific.

I am allergic to pretty much every tree, grass, weed pollen and dander the doctor has in his little test kit, so it makes sense that given enough time I'd develop an allergy to Christmas trees. But it's so beautiful (say yes, oh yes!) and I love when that pine smell fills the house. (Got a kleenex?)

So am I going to surrender to the mounting practicalities and go the artificial Christmas tree route, next year?

No way.

Some things are worth sneezing for.

ON HOLIDAY MEMORIES

Someday soon, we all will be together,

If the fates allow

Hang your brightest star above the highest bough..

HANK: I'm a sap. And I embrace it. That song always make me teary, and it's not only because I'm often wrapping presents on Christmas Eve. My pals know to expect New Years cards. It's not because I'm Jewish, it's more because I'm behind.

At the urging of my siblings and me, my family actually celebrated every holiday you could get presents for. My mom drew the line at live Easter chicks, as any wise mom would do. But otherwise, we attempted to cash in at every opportunity.

One year, though, when I had just turned 16, my mom drew the line. We're Jewish, she said. No more Christmas trees. Which seems logical now, but didn't, then. My sibs were 14, 10, 9 and 8. And I knew they wanted a tree.

I had just gotten my driver's license, so The Night Before Not-Christmas, my sister Nina and I said we were going to the movies. We took the car, and we did go to the movies. But just to the concession stand. We got popcorn. Then we went to the grocery, the A and P, and got cranberries. And we also purchased the last of the scrawny old Christmas trees, not even good enough to be a Charlie Brown tree.

We hid the tree behind our barn, then scurried upstairs with our popcorn and cranberries, and stayed up for hours stringing them. (Is there a trick to this, by the way? The cranberries got very mushy.)

Then late late late, we sneaked outside and brought in the tree. Everyone else was, um, snug in their beds. We set it up, and decorated it, and put the presents underneath it. (Oh yeah, we still had presents. It was just the tree that was prohibited. Go figure.) Anyway, all finished, we scampered back upstairs.

The next morning--we got up early early as usual, and hid in the living room. It worked perfectly. We got to see the shocked and surprised looks on our parents faces. "Santa came!" Mom said. (And I guess that's how they felt when they saw our faces as little kids.) And to this day we still remember "the year without the tree."

Memories, anyone?

RO: My gosh, that sounds wonderful. Christmas Eve was always the big celebration in my family - the day itself was anti-climactic. On Christmas Eve we'd all gather at Grandma's house - my mother was one of eight, so I have a zillion cousins, and yes, being Italian, most of the males are named Anthony, or some version.

(It's even more complicated now that one cousin Pam, whose father was Anthony, and who has a sister named Toni, has married a Tony, and they have a son named Anthony. Another cousin Anthony had a son named Anthony and he married a Pam.)
Anyway my grandmother would make an antipasto that was a work of art, and god help you if you picked at anything before everyone saw it. She also prepared seven different types of fish, it's a Neapolitan thing, including bacala, which we kids never touched.

My mother would make zeppole and struffoli, two of the most fattening things on the planet. It was an orgy of eating.

There was always one aunt who gave great presents, and another who gave us all the same thing - usually a boring, practical gift like an umbrella, which is the last thing you want when you're seven - so after the first cousin opened his gift, we all knew what we got, and had to fake being excited. Other than that, it was big fun...and I still make struffoli.

So did you have an official tree the next year?

HANK: You know, I think we didn't. I was a senior in high school, then, way too cool for such things. Nina was probably on a date. The other kinds were older. And way too knowledgeable for such things. As will happen. Which makes it all the sweeter. I'm off to look up struffoli.

ROBERTA: Oh my gosh, I wish I'd been at Ro's house for Christmas Eve! Especially that antipasto! I can't even remember what we ate CE, because my mother was busy shopping for stocking stuffers. We were all crazy for stockings. She'd go out the day before Christmas to Two Guys, a discount store that must have been insanely busy, just to be sure each stocking was crammed to the top. My aunt had knitted all of us a two-footer with our names on it, plus Santa's head with an actual fuzzy white beard, leaping reindeer, and so on. It's hanging up by the chimney with care right now!

JAN: Once I heard about the seven fish dinner, I wanted to be Italian. The half-Polish, half-Irish thing didn't many Christmas rituals, except that we always had to have Kielbasa and horse radish on little rye breads for every holiday. (Luckily, the horrible Irish food was reserved for St. Patrick's Day.) Probably my best Christmas memory is just after college. My room-mate Beth was Jewish, with limited Christmas experience, so I got this inspiration to fill a stocking full of little presents for her. She was so tickled by this that the next year, she handknitted me a stocking with my name on it.I still hang that stocking by the chimney and for years, Beth and I exchanged stocking stuffers for Christmas. Once we had kids, we made Christmas ornaments together. We still have them and put them up on the tree.

HALLIE: The thing I remember most fondly about Christmas, growing up in Los Angeles, was the night BEFORE the night before Christmas, going out to bag a tree. Every year, my mother would beg my father to bring home a small tree, just about this tall (her size). We'd pile into the family wagon and cruise through Westwood and Santa Monica where, on vacant street corner lots (there were such things back in the olden days), the tree vendors would be set up for the season. We'd hold our noses at the pink Christmas trees, the silver ones, and the ones laden with fake snow (did the rest of the world have those back then?). Invariably we'd be drawn to the monster trees (what was usually left by that late date) and my father would haggle and we'd all have to squeeze in the front seat for the drive home because the tree would take up the whole back of the wagon, filling the car with that lovely pine smell. And when we got home my mother got her person-sized tree, because that was about the size of the top my father had to cut off to get the thing into the house.

HANK: Yes, decorating the tree is another whole blog. There was the year Mom wanted all red bows. Then we'd all sneak on our favorite ornaments, just one, and eventually the red bows were overtaken by the family treasures.

So--how about you? Traditions and memories? Did you put out milk and cookies? Read The Night Before Christmas? Hang stockings? Make struffoli?