Saturday, December 17, 2011
If you celebrate the season, it all comes down to real or artificial. Growing up, we always had a real one. I can recall many a Sunday in December heading off to the outer reaches of Cumberland somewhere, in the station wagon with Dad with an ax in the back seat. We always headed to the same area and always returned with a 'perfect' tree. To this day Elenka and I have had a real Christmas tree to decorate each December. Hey, we live in Maine, and 'it's the right thing to do'. Where we get ours seems to go in cycles, but even with 10 acres out back we've never taken down our own. We've shopped at mom and pop stands, local garden centers and most recently at Lowe's. Whether a Douglas fir, a Fraser or a Balsam, we seem to find the 'perfect' one each year without fail. Could I survive with an artificial one? No problem. I'm sure someday, depending where we end up, it'll happen. A small one sitting on a table? I'll know the score. I'll live with it. But these Decembers, when I return home a bit stressed from my day, I light the tree and ah... my worries seem to just slide away. As I type this last line or so in the family room, our tree, twinkling away with its white lights and heirloom decorations, sets the mood for my coming day... and it's softly snowing out right now. Peace!