Monday, December 14, 2009
O Christmas Tree
(Image borrowed from www.theage.com.)Smith & Brown Christmas Tree Farm was just about the coolest place on Earth when I was a kid.
Every year, well before Thanksgiving, my family would bundle up in our California warmest--
(You know. Jeans instead of shorts and sneakers instead of sandals. Some years we even had to go all crazy and wear sweatshirts.)
--and pile into the car to head up Central Ave. in Chino to select that Family Christmas Tree.
My brother, Marc, and I would run up and down rows and rows of trees. Some were even taller than Dad, while others were too small and would maybe be ready next year.
I remember the excitement as we found The Tree, only to discover that the tag had already been torn as some other family had laid claim to it before we could get there. We'd continue the search, finding another that was Absolutely Perfect...until Mom discovered the big hole on the side. Which would lead to the debate over whether that part could be hidden against the Living Room wall.
Some years, finding the right tree was quick and easy. Other times, it could take an hour or more. It was a big lot.
We'd finally make our selection, tear off the tag and then, together, march to the check stand to pay for our prize. But we didn't get to take it home yet. We'd wait. Just a couple of weeks. So that it would be the freshest tree possible.
After Thanksgiving, sometimes the first week of December, Dad would take us kids to pick up the tree while Mom stayed home to pull out the ornaments and the dozens of boxes of decorations she had managed to accumulate. We'd get to the lot, follow a chainsaw wielding high school kid to the tree that always seemed bigger/smaller/fatter/like it had fewer needles than we remembered. But we didn't care. The kid with the chainsaw would cut the trunk and Marc and I always shouted "Timber!" just before it toppled to the dusty earth.
We spent the rest of the day watching Mom and Dad argue over whether it was straight enough and then the proper balance of lights and then Mom would fiddle with all the ornaments Marc and I had hung with such care.
(Apparently, 5 baubles on one branch was just too much.)
The Smith & Brown Christmas Tree Farm was sold some years back. The five acres or so of beautiful evergreens is now a shopping center and an apartment building.
And now my mom has an artificial tree.
The times are a-changin'.
Which of your old Christmas traditions has faded away over time?
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"You know what they say. If you don't have anything nice to say about anybody, come sit by me."
~Clairee Belcher, Steel Magnolias