Yes, those are lyrics and the song is on repeat in my head today. I hosted what is now an annual tradition on Sunday evening: spiked eggnog and tree trimming with some of my girlfriends. Of course, I had wine with dinner and way too much eggnog for dessert, so Monday I was dragging.
That isn’t the funny part of this story.
I spent the weekend at home, preparing the living room to receive the holiday decorations. I had decided that I was going to procure a real Christmas tree this year, and put the old fake one on the front porch. We hadn’t had a real tree in more than twenty years in our house. The artificial tree had at one time been pre-lit, but those lights haven’t worked in at least 5 years. (You know how it goes: it works fine for 2 or 3 years but then sections start to go dark until none of the lights work at all and you’re adding lights. What’s the point?) So, bright and early Saturday morning, I blew all the leaves off the porch and set up the old artificial tree, adorning it with outdoor lights. It’s pretty cute, if I say so myself, even on its last legs.
The purge before the decking
Then I tackled the living room. If you’ve ever been to my home, you know that there is so much in that room that it is difficult to actually notice what’s there. I can’t do much with the extraneous furnishings alone, so I concentrated on the surfaces. To say that it was a Herculean task is an understatement. The number of photos alone would make you pause, nevermind the various and sundry little keepsakes and ceramics collecting dust. All the good things were packed up and stashed. The goal was to be finished by mid-afternoon so I could visit the tree farm before it closed. I pulled out the 30-plus-year-old tree stand from the basement – one of the positives of hanging onto things too long. It’s very low-tech, but still had all its pieces and parts.
Around 3:30, I went off to the tree farm where I was faced with numerous bad choices. I must’ve walked around the inventory for a good half hour before I settled on a tree that, though a little bit crooked, would suffice. The thing you forget when you’re a strong, independent woman is that sometimes you need more than one set of hands to do some things. Like haul a Christmas tree from your SUV and set it in the stand.
Remarkably, one of my kids arrived home just as I did and helped hold the tree upright while I secured it in the stand. One of the screws wouldn’t budge, but the tree trunk was wonky, so it didn’t seem to matter. I screwed in the other three, gave the tree some cold water, and commenced to adding the lights. Down went the tree skirt, and I was pleased.
Deck the halls…
Sunday was filled with final preparations for the main event. Ornament bins came up from the basement. Pot roast went into the oven. Rum went into the freezer – I like cold spiked eggnog, don’t you? I vacuumed up all the flotsam and jetsam laying about.
My friends arrived, we had a sumptuous spread, shared stories of our latest (and upcoming) travels. Dessert was served – chocolate cake and eggnog – and the trimming of the tree commenced. So we did all that you are supposed to do at this time of year: eat, drink, and be merry! Done, done, and done. The tree looked good in its crookedness. After my guests left, I poured myself into bed and naturally didn’t get a good night’s sleep.
Timber!
Monday dawns and the Christmas tree is looking festive. I get my coffee and drag my butt to my computer and get started. The day goes by uneventfully, and I am thrilled at 7:30 pm that I can get in my pj’s and get to bed early. I’m relaxing in my bedroom, when at 8 pm, the eldest child yells up the stairs.
“Ma! Ma! The tree fell! Come down here!”
“What?!” is my response.
“The tree fell over,” he is yelling from the living room. “All the water spilled and there are ornaments everywhere.”
I am not laughing.
It is now all hands on deck. Both boys are in the living room with me, trying to right the tree and get all four screws on the stand into the trunk so it won’t move. How do you straighten something that isn’t straight to begin with? There is much consternation about whether or not it needs to move, can we straighten it, how will we sop all of this water out of the rug, would someone please hold this thing while I get the WD-40 for the stuck screw in the stand….
You get the picture. We’re at this for an hour at least. The youngest is under the tree with his phone light, examining the placement of the trunk in relation to the screws. Has me adjust the entire tree a few times. We tighten all the screws on the tree trunk and it seems to be working. Just as we start to walk away, the tree gains a serious tilt, which becomes a lean and is fast looking like a fall. We all scramble to catch it before it hits the floor again.
Still not laughing.
Finally, the youngest suggests we add some sort of bracing to the side of the trunk that the tree wants to lean into. We shove a bunch of wooden shims in there, creating a makeshift brace. It seems to hold. I go to bed, finally, at my usual bedtime, all the while praying the tree remains upright through the night. I moved the heavy crystal vase off the table the tree is bound to fall on, if it does, just in case.
The next day
This morning, I tiptoed into the kitchen for coffee, afraid to look into the living room. But there is the tree, upright, leaning just a bit to the right. I’m annoyed now. I straighten it, tighten the screws all the way, and add another shim to the jury-rigged brace. So far, so good. Every time I pass the thing, I hold my breath. It’s been a full day and it is still standing upright.
So now I can laugh.
I may decide, when everything goes on sale after Christmas, to invest in an unlit artificial tree.
