26 yrs ago and the Christmas Tree Story
I was 30 and pregnant with my daughter. It was 2 days before Christmas and we still didn’t have a tree. The rest of the house was already decorated and it was a depressing sight with no tree.
I had to have a nice crying jag to convince someone that I simply had to have a tree. Blaming it on the hormonal change, he went out for the day with buds and tied a good one on.
I’ve never given in to treading lightly when someone has a hangover, but I made an extra special effort the next morning to vaccuum the entire house. Twice. Including ceilings, baseboards and furniture.
The next thing I knew we were flying/driving down Zline Road to the local family Christmas Tree Farm. I wasn’t quite sure where we were because the speed of the car was quite fast down that dirt road. It was 7 miles off the Main road. We arrived somehow in one piece and by the time I got my 8 month gestating girth out of the low-slung Camaro, I heard him say to the man, “that one”. Yeesh. But hey, I had my tree!
It was unceremoniously tied horizontally to the open trunk of the Camaro, and off we went flying/driving down the same dirt road. We hit the 7 mile mark to the main road and I hear, “oh, sh*t”. The car was pulled over and someone got out, slamming the door and walked to the back of the car.
After a few more expletives, someone climbs back in the car, slams the door and whips a U-turn heading back down the dirt road. Not saying anything for fear of our unborn child being harmed by any more foul language, I just held on to my tummy with one hand and the ceiling with the other.
Low-slung Camaros on a dirt bumpy road and pregnant women do not fare well together, lemme tell ya.
Suddenly the car braked and someone climbed out, slamming the door again. I wondered two things; one, if I could just take a quick pee on the empty road and two, how all this fast driving and door slamming was affecting a hangover. Couldn’t be good.
I looked in the side view mirror, and low and behold, there was my tree laying on the side of the road.
Again, it was unceremoniously tied back onto the open trunk and off we went flying/driving down that dirt road again. And 13 miles later made it home.
I don’t think the joy-ride car had come to a complete stop by the time I had unbuckled my seat and run in the house to pee. All this excitement getting my tree for sure!
The tree stand had been sitting in it’s blank area on the carpet for 2 weeks, so that was grabbed, tree secured in. When I was trying to decide which side was going to be the front, I quickly ascertained there was only one side of the tree. There was no back. Seems that the tree was dragged 4 of those 7 miles before it finally dropped out of the trunk. And that quickly explained why it would not quit tipping over.
A few more expletives, and a piece of particle board was secured to the tree stand for stability. Again I wondered how all the exsersion and hammering was affecting a hangover. But I had my tree, so hey!
There was still some leaning and tilting. A hook was nailed to the wall and fish line was now securing the top part of the tree to the hook.
Negotiating the lights around the fish line would be a challenge, but hey I had my tree!
Still some leaning and tilting, but I had to pee again, so I left someone to ponder the next step. When I came back there it stood with the naked back side facing the corner and straight up as an arrow.
I eyed the nails and hammer on the floor suspisously, but hey! I had my tree and it was now ready for decorating.
The Saturday after the holidays ended it was time to take down the decorations, and just like it was the last to go up, the tree was the last to take down and out to spend it’s last few days and what needles were left at the curb. I unscrewed the tree stand from the trunk, spread a sheet out on the carpet to use for dragging purposes and went to tilt the tree and let gravity do it’s thing and thought the tree would just drop on the sheet.
Wouldn’t budge. Oh, the fish line! So after cutting the fish line, again I though gravity would do it’s thing and “help”, but still no movement.
Then I hear from the couch, “I’ll do it next commercial”. Awrighty then!
I didn’t understand why a hammer would be needed to take my tree down and out, but when I saw the the claw side being shoved under the plywood, it was like the brightness of the blinking lights flashing back to the last step to get the tree steady while I was in the bathroom.
All four corners of the plywood were secured with 4” penny nails.
Through the carpet and to the floor.
The next morning, this comic was in the Sunday paper.
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