Tree Saga
Yesterday Kate and I set out to do some errands. I got my hair cut, Kate shopped for presents for her grandma, aunt and uncle (since they're coming up on Friday), then we went hither and yon searching in vain for Christmas trees. There were NONE to be found at any of our usual tree lot locations. We even tried going down to IKEA, where we've had good luck the last couple of years, but they were already well sold out and done for the season. Giving up on that, I made a run to the grocery store to replace some of the perishables that had gone bad during the blackout (Kate discovered the milk was sour, poor kid). Kate was mightily disappointed that we still had no Christmas tree and I was giving serious consideration to buying one of those fake tree atrocities but we're a real tree family and one look from Pramas let me know that a fake tree was just not an option.
Instead I did a little research on the ol' internet and found a couple of other likely locations for trees. Kate and I set off in the car with only an hour to spare before the tree lots were advertised to be closed. Lot #1 was a bare and vacant lot, not a tree in sight. Lot #2 was locked and mostly empty, with a few snaggled trees remaining. We were quickly losing hope. We made it to the last tree lot on my list (a lot on Capitol Hill run by volunteers raising money for AIDS) and hail all that is good and right, they were open and had a few trees left. I quickly sized up our options and picked the one tree that would fit in our house, correctly judging that it would be just inches shy of our ceiling. Appropriately for a tree lot on Capitol Hill, the cash register was being run by a wispy, effeminate gay man while a stocky woman in boots and a crew cut wielded a chainsaw to trim the trees out back. All she was missing was the flannel shirt. I later told Pramas (who did not venture out with us) about the woman and he laughed, because Kate had told the same story (about how our chainsaw wielding friend kept calling the tree "she" as in "she needs water and she will drink a lot during the first 48 hours") but that Kate hadn't clicked to the fact that it was a chick giving us the tree care tutorial.
Anyway, got the tree home only to find that it was too big for our cheap tree stand. I tried manually sawing the base of the tree into a point of sorts with our handsaw to whittle it down but to no avail. All I managed to do was get myself covered in pine sap and cover the front steps in sawdust and bark chips. We had to wait until today to go out again and try to find a larger tree stand (which we did). Finally got the tree set up and Kate went to town decorating it. Of course, once it was done I couldn't resist fiddling with it and I managed to tip the whole damn thing over on myself but after Kate recovered from the trauma of having "her" ornaments spilled over the floor, she happily redecorated and we have, in the nick of time, the tree set up and presents underneath.
Tomorrow the dog comes and we're two days away from Project "Oh My God, The Family Is Here." It's also the last day for Priority Mail packages to go out in time for Christmas. I've purchased all ingredients needed for my faux Christmas dinner menu, down to pear nectar celeriac. Yay me.
Instead I did a little research on the ol' internet and found a couple of other likely locations for trees. Kate and I set off in the car with only an hour to spare before the tree lots were advertised to be closed. Lot #1 was a bare and vacant lot, not a tree in sight. Lot #2 was locked and mostly empty, with a few snaggled trees remaining. We were quickly losing hope. We made it to the last tree lot on my list (a lot on Capitol Hill run by volunteers raising money for AIDS) and hail all that is good and right, they were open and had a few trees left. I quickly sized up our options and picked the one tree that would fit in our house, correctly judging that it would be just inches shy of our ceiling. Appropriately for a tree lot on Capitol Hill, the cash register was being run by a wispy, effeminate gay man while a stocky woman in boots and a crew cut wielded a chainsaw to trim the trees out back. All she was missing was the flannel shirt. I later told Pramas (who did not venture out with us) about the woman and he laughed, because Kate had told the same story (about how our chainsaw wielding friend kept calling the tree "she" as in "she needs water and she will drink a lot during the first 48 hours") but that Kate hadn't clicked to the fact that it was a chick giving us the tree care tutorial.
Anyway, got the tree home only to find that it was too big for our cheap tree stand. I tried manually sawing the base of the tree into a point of sorts with our handsaw to whittle it down but to no avail. All I managed to do was get myself covered in pine sap and cover the front steps in sawdust and bark chips. We had to wait until today to go out again and try to find a larger tree stand (which we did). Finally got the tree set up and Kate went to town decorating it. Of course, once it was done I couldn't resist fiddling with it and I managed to tip the whole damn thing over on myself but after Kate recovered from the trauma of having "her" ornaments spilled over the floor, she happily redecorated and we have, in the nick of time, the tree set up and presents underneath.
Tomorrow the dog comes and we're two days away from Project "Oh My God, The Family Is Here." It's also the last day for Priority Mail packages to go out in time for Christmas. I've purchased all ingredients needed for my faux Christmas dinner menu, down to pear nectar celeriac. Yay me.
Mary's brother's birthday is tomorrow, and traditionally her family didn't get a tree until after his birthday had passed. Now it's an artificial tree.
Spike