funny Christmas tree story, re-told...

...here, again. I think this is a repeat, with limited appeal, but there are a few who will find it amusing to be reminded and have to opportunity to read again. About the time my brother and I were assigned the task of bringing home a Christmas tree.  I'm not sure how old we were - maybe both of us had left home and were in college, or I was the only one still at home in my junior or senior year of high school, and he was just around for the break between classes/quarters.

I can see now, after all these years, that parents (in particular the person who does 99% of the house work) would think, and be willing to say to the younger generation: we will only have a Christmas tree in the house if YOU put it up and take it down. At this point in my life, I am in total, complete agreement with that statement. Cannot think of any logical reason to invent more work for oneself: the putting up and taking down seems both pointless and superfluous. As well as a waste of time and energy, plus $$$ if you choose to purchase a tree, to put out for the trash truck in a couple of weeks.

So... anyway... we got my dad's pickup truck, with some sort of cutting implement, I assume. A hand saw, most likely. And went off down country roads looking for the perfect tree. Right size and shape, not growing in a clump that would make it one-sided. Or growing in the fence row, that would cause it to have holes when you pulled it out and set it up at home. Nice and round, not too big for eight foot ceilings and not to small to look skimpy when viewed by passersby driving down the street.

And, in retrospect: not red cedar - which is the prickliest, stickiest, meanest type Christmas tree imaginable. The only thing that would be more hurtful would be thinking you could use a Holly tree. Which would turn you into a pin cushion, and red cedars will run it a close second.

Sadly, I don't recall the details. But we found the tree, left in a hurry, and fully expected to get buckshot in our backsides. I think the guy who owned the property from which the tree was removed without permission saw what was happening. Or maybe that particular tree was the one he had his eye on for decorating. But we definitely beat a hasty retreat, and expected for days after the tree came home and set up in the living room that the truth would out. Fully prepared to pay the piper when our Dad came in steaming under the collar and demanded an explanation. I'm sure I never gave one, and think my bro. would have told me if he had been cornered and questioned.

I know now the line about: 'it is easier to beg forgiveness than to seek permission', but think if I had it to do all over again, I would probably try to find the owner of the tree before practicing my 'cut and run' skills. And will caution anyone to Never attempt using a southern red cedar as a Christmas tree. Not only are they unbelievably prickly, but they will shed and shed and shed after you cut them and they start to dry out...