How lovely are thy Australian branches

[vaneramos]

For several weeks I have been trying to decide whether to buy a real (traditional and cheap) or artificial (clean and convenient) Christmas tree. Today in the car the phrase "Norfolk Island pine" slipped across my tongue, so unforeseen that it must have been Freudian. This morning androkles expressed concern over the way Christmas has spawned a global domination of pine trees, so my idea came as a slight gesture towards him. Norfolk Island pines are not pines at all, more like a giant clubmoss imported from Australia. They make nice houseplants. Marian applauded the idea, so we decided to stop at our favourite greenhouse instead of the Christmas tree farm. For a price midway between a real and artificial tree, I have a permanent, live addition to my indoor jungle.



Marian was too interested in decorating herself and her clothes—with duct tape, it's an adolescent thing—to help much with the tree, but Brenna gave expert assistance. While I strung a single strand of gold lights around it, she started unpacking decorations. Unfortunately the whole box, which has sat in the basement since last year, reeked of mouse piss. By the time I had finished the lights, Bren had unwrapped a few ornaments.

"Why don't we decorate it all in gold?" she suggested.

I think my taste has influenced her too much. Gone is the little girl who wanted as much gaudy colour as possible. Marian vetoed the all-one-colour idea, and I negotiated for some variation. We turned out a mostly gold and purple number with traces of blue, white and crystal. To finish things off, Brenna tastefully strung a row of glittery wicker snowflakes around the edge of the basket. It is awfully lovely, way too Martha Stewart for anyone's health.

Most of my decorations are survivors from my marriage and first two or three years out of the closet when I hadn't yet found my direction in life. I'm so glad I turned into a jeans and t-shirt fag instead of an exquisite decorator queen. Still, it would be wise for me to start investing in some Christmas tree kitsch for next year, otherwise my beard and chest hair are bound to start falling out and my daughters' minds will be permanently damaged.

I'm sure Martha wouldn't approve of the mouse piss, so I stowed the box of unused decorations back in the basement and we all washed our hands.

Comments

[theatresumthing.livejournal.com]

I must admit, as I sit here in my seat shorts and t-shirt, that we have contributed mightily to the pine tree conspiracy by putting up a 12 foot Frasier in the living room. We went for colored lights this year, and it is festooned with ornaments.

But my husband is German, and tanenbaum is oh so important to him.

[vaneramos.livejournal.com]

The tree was always one of my favourite parts of the season, too. Last year was the first year of my life I didn't have a Christmas tree, but I'm glad we have one this time. I think I might try getting some mixed lights for next year, though.