A Small Miracle

Ms Robyn's posting about the drama of setting up the Christmas Tree prompted this posting. It seems that there is something highly combustible between pine trees and men at this time of year. Even the "Grumpy Old Women" (ABC last night) commented on it. I think men look at an innocent pine tree and immediately assume that it is an enemy to be mutilated and subdued into a barely recognizeable version of its original splendour at the time of purchase.

For years I would drive to the markets and purchase the perfect tree, which would be carefully encased in a plastic tube and placed in the car, maybe even wrapped in a blanket. On arrival home, the tree would be gently lifted out into the carport - and then World War Three would erupt.

Holes would be drilled through the bottom of the trunk ("not that drill, the one on the bench. Why isn't it there? Who used it last?") to absorb more water. The once-perfect tree would then be trimmed, making it considerably less than perfect. A bucket had to be filled with half-bricks ("not those bricks, they're too big.") then placed in the loungeroom. Tree was then placed in the bucket and sand poured into the bucket to fill every nook and cranny ("don't pour sand everywhere. Hold it straight, can't you?") Tree and bucket were then rotated to give the best view. After several rotations, and no-one was happy, the best side of a rapidly deteriorating tree was chosen for the front, and what seemed like several klms of string was attached to the tree to tie it to the nearby curtain rod ("pull the string tighter on this side. Now it's leaning too far to the left. Here let me do it!")

Then ... silence, as the man of the house has had enough of Christmas trees, pine needles, heat and the flies that came in when the door was open, and taken himself off to do who knows what.

At last ... now we can do the job properly ourselves, and even enjoy it.

But this year was different!!! Firstly, we weren't going to have a tree at all, but on the spur of the moment bought a 2metre tall artificial tree. It came in a cardboard box, not too big and strong enough to store said tree for the rest of the year. Sara, just returned from Amsterdam, came over to set up the tree - then pack it all back into the box as part of the stand was missing. Back to the hardware store, exchange for another tree, insist on opening box before leaving store to check everything is there, and back home. Tree looked quite good when set up and all the branches were teased out.

Then, with a flash of inspiration, I asked Richard if he would like to decorate the tree? He agreed .. I think he actually had fun .. he asked me if I would like to help him? My mind wandered back over several Christmas Tree debacles and I suddenly found ironing, vacuuming and washing dishes much more enticing. However, Richard perservered, carefully attaching balls, lights, tinsel (sorry, Tanya, I know how much you loathe tinsel) and other ornaments to the tree.

I think he did a pretty good job, too.