The Servant's Quarters

Treed Off

At the Butler house, Christmas is in full swing. That's typical for me. I'm a guy who does Christmas year round. I listen to Christmas music over the summer months. I'm already looking forward to starting my Christmas 2007 shopping on December 26. My computer is filled with spreadsheets, databases, and checklists dedicated to the flawless execution of a perfect family holiday.

You have to know that it never works out that way, right?

Since Rita and I got married, our tradition has been to cut down our own tree at a little farm in Belleville. Although I'm pretty choosey, we always seemed to be able to find a very good speciman to plop down in the family room. Alas! Last year, we didn't receive our usual post card advertisement from Thornhollow Tree Farm. When we arrived in December 2005, we found that Thornhollow was closed and in the first stages of being turned into condominiums. (Thank the Lord. Christmas Tree Farms are on every street corner, but you really have to try hard to find a good condominium.) Searching around, we found another place near us, but the results were less than spectacular. The tree, which looked great at the farm, turned out to a hole infested nightmare. It truly was the ugliest tree we'd ever purchased. Worse, it wouldn't drink water and dried out to a hard, crisp, crusty twig before the season was over.

This year, I was determined to find a better place. I went directly to the Nathional Christmas Tree Growers Association website. (Which I have bookmarked in My Favorites. I kid you not.) I found a place just south of Metro Airport. We set out in the early afternoon eager to start a new family tradition. When we arrived, the farm didn't look like what I expected, but that was all right. The trees looked good, and I commented to Rita about how healthy and green they looked. We started walking towards the back of the farm, and about halfway through, we started getting a little concerned that nothing was jumping out at us. Then, we discovered WHY the trees looked so perfectly green - spray paint. Christmas trees by Sherwin Williams. We pressed on, knowing in our hearts that this place was a bust.

Not wanting to waste the rest of the day, we decided to give another chance to the place where we bought our tree last year. No dice. The tractor brought us to the same section of the farm where we cut our tree in 2005. We had our choice of the trees that were too ugly to get cut last year. Twelve months had not made them any more attractive. We left.

As soon as we were home, I fired up the computer and went looking for more tree farms. I finally settled on one that was pretty far away but offered a lot more than Christmas trees. A petting zoo, gift shoppe, food, entertainment, pony rides, etc. We decided to head out the next day. And we would come home WITH a tree.

We arrived at Matthes Evergreen Farm (http://www.matthesevergreenfarm.com/) and were instantly happy with our choice. The trees looked great. Wagons rode slowly through the farm picking up customers and their trees for delivery to the shaking and netting stations. People were friendly and seemed genuinely happy to see us. Even the weather was great. (No coats at the end of November.) It took us about an hour, but we found an excellent (or so we thought) tree. It was beautiful. Isaac insisted on cutting it down himself, and since my age has won out over my pride and desire to appear as young as I used to be, I let him. The first warning sign that we were heading for a tough evening came as Isaac got down on the ground and prepared to cut -

"Hey, this trunk is kind of crooked."

Be quiet, Isaac. We know what we're doing.

The tree came down, was loaded onto the back of a wagon, shaken, wrapped, and stowed in the back of the van. Mission accomplished. We stayed at the farm for another hour having fun. Aidan had his first pony ride and visited Santa.

We got home and rushed to put the tree into its stand so that it would be able to drink. Hmmmm. Won't quite fit. That's bizarre. The trunk was big, but not that big. We tried several times before we concluded that the trunk needed to be trimmed down. We chose a section to cut off, and Isaac went to work. Still, the tree wouldn't fit. We laid it down and saw the reason why. For about the top five feet of the tree, the trunk was perfectly straight. After that, it shot off at an almost 45 degree angle. Yikes.

Rita thought we could make it work, and I hoped she was right. I was fighting massive discouragement, watching my evening bleed away into hours of fighting this tree. We got the tree into the stand, tightened the screws, and checked it. It wouldn't even stand upright without me supporting it. I told the others that I refused to spend the Christmas season holding the tree up. Rita suggested that we get some books to level the tree. I knew this wouldn't work, but I hoped I was wrong. Several dictionaries, textbooks, and pieces of wood later, the tree was propped up and almost straight. But the one side of the stand was so far off the floor that the tree would instantly roll to one side or the other when I let go.

I gave up. I angrily told them that I would stop on my way home from work and get a pre-cut tree. Enough of this useless waste of time. Rita and Isaac wouldn't quit. They were having the time of their lives. I stormed out of the room and got back on the computer. I could hear them laughing at the pathetic tree they were trying to save while I looked for tree lots between my work and home.

After a while, Rita called me back to see the results of their labors.

They had done it.

I was shocked.

They had cut off the crooked part of the trunk, which made the tree far too short to be considered respectable. But it was in the stand and it was straight. Then, they had gotten a short play table from the basement, put a cloth over it, and put the tree on top of the table.

The result was a perfectly beautiful tree that almost reached the ceiling.

It looked great.

And the most important thing is not that they had salvaged a Christmas tree disaster. What was truly beautiful was that they had had a blast doing it. They had laughed together and created a Christmas memory that will probably be with them for the rest of their lives. And I had missed it. Because I had gotten discouraged and angry, I had walked away from what was an important family moment. As I looked at the tree, I really kicked myself for being such a fool. For letting my anger.....

Ah, forget it. I'm just happy I didn't have to buy another tree.

Last night, we finished decorating the tree and putting up my Christmas village. Everything looks great.

Christmas is here! At last!

(Check back often as I intend to dilligently blog throughout the holiday season.)