About 10 days before Christmas it occurred to Mariah and I that if we were going to put up a tree we were kinda running out of time....It was already late in the evening after a long day and I was exhausted. Mariah pointed out that this could be our last opportunity to put it up before Christmas and that the boys would likely be pretty disappointed if we didn't. After all, it would be our first year ever in our marriage that we hadn't put up a real farm cut Christmas tree (though each and every one has been quite unique).Why would this be our last chance? Well because we are expecting our 5th child and the due date is Dec 23rd :) I begrudgingly acknowledged that she had a point. She wasn't in labor right now and I had no guarantee she wouldn't be tomorrow and if the baby came before the tree well that would pretty much guarantee - no tree. I believe I said said something along the lines of well that is a risk we will have to take. I'm exhausted and its dark and well (insert like 3-4 more very legitimate excuses here) all given really because it was cold and I didn't want to go back outside.....Well Mariah went about prepping supper and as I sat in our rocking chair generally enjoying not doing anything for the first time in 12 hours I began to remember all kinds of warm memories from Christmas time when I was a child, and a growing sense of conviction started to stir me into action. So with about as much Christmas spirit as the Grinch headed to Whoville I quietly donned my coat and slipped outside. Ephraim noticed my quiet exit and, throwing on boots and a coat, exuberantly headed out behind me completely unaware what we were doing or why and marched into the cold with a childlike joy. I admit that did raise my spirits, though for principles sake I resolved not to show it haha, but I did let Ephraim in on our mission. Particularly that my goal was to cut down something within walking distance of the house and that it would be dramatically smaller than last year.He said he knew just the tree and excitedly showed me a cedar tree he thought would be perfect. Well "tree" is a bit a a stretch. It was more like a cedar sapling and if it had more than four branches one must have been hiding behind it. Since I had a general sense that Mariah would not be thrilled by a tree that was not actually green (my husband senses have grown strong over the years), I politely told Ephraim we might scout around for more options. Walking to get my chainsaw, I noticed something green in the corral (that was a good start considering our last contender) and I walked over to inspect. My analysis went something like this: Close to the house - check. Somewhat green - check. Smaller than last year - check. Dimensions, and fatefully straightness were not factored into my selection equation. In an effort to speed up the selection process I asked for no input and Mariah's first hint that I had in fact taken her advice to get a tree was noticing I and Ephraim were not in the house as she heard chainsaw noises echoing just 50 yards out the North window. As I dragged my prize back to the house feeling rather pleased at the speed of this adventure, (especially compared to past years), Ephraim carried my chainsaw back to the truck like a soldier who had just received a medal of valor. Really his enthusiasm and zeal for doing pretty much anything is incredibly admirable and frequently brings smiles to our faces. As I brought my prize through the door, rather feeling like dad of the year considering I had reversed course and guaranteed the boys would get to experience the joy of decorating a "tree" again this year, Mariah graciously said it looked nice while suggesting we might need to trim a few branches. Owing to the fact its overall shape (which I hadn't bothered to analyze earlier) had been molded by growing through corral panels, I had to admit that a few selective trims might be in order to make its shape more conical and less like the tentacles of the "watcher" in the pool outside Moria in the Lord of the Rings. For reasons I may never understand, Mariah objected to the use of the chainsaw indoors and so the grinch headed back to Whoville outside in the cold for the second unplanned trip that evening. Failing to find my handsaw in the carefully organized heap inside the open sided 1900s milk shed I generally refer to as a barn, I returned with my sawzaw and a wood blade. After some not so careful trimming the "tree" looked a little more conical and depsite the large gaps in its branches on two sides, all involved (perhaps moved by the spirit of the season) gave it their approval.The tree was then raised in its stand ( I noted at this point that the main branch was bent nearly 90 degrees at one point, and after a few inches of lateral growth resumed its somewhat straight approach skyward. This made the weight of the tree very offset in the tree stand and set the stage for the disasters to come. Just when I had got the box of ornaments, lights, and ropes (used to secure the tree to the wall to prevent falling - little hands can have a lot of fun with a tree) my phone rang. Breathless on the phone was none other than my Father in law. I needed to come immediately! There was a grass fire on our farm near his house! A fire haha, how? It had just rained and this time of year there is really not much to burn, but the only real reason I can give for it is that it's just us. I mean why shouldn't we get an unexpected call that there was an unexpected blaze miles from our house in the cold while were just getting ready to decorate the tree? Somehow it just fit us perfectly. I won't go into much detail here but thankfully the fire was not serious (a small grass fire in the fence line with the neighbor) and I and my father in law were able to put it out in about an hour (most of that time spent stomping out embers to prevent having to come back out in an hour to put out the same fire). Returning from my third unexpected trip outside in the cold, I entered our tranquil dwelling pretty much dead set on a shower and bed. Covered in soot, and generally smelling like a skunky ash tray (grass fires stink) I entered the house to see the tree had taken its first (note I said first) nosedive. The whole "come quick there's a fire adventure" had undermined my intention to immediately tie up the tree to the wall and apparently with a little help from our youngest son the tree had come tumbling down like it was felled by the axe of Paul Bunyan. It should be noted at this point that despite a lot of work I could never get the tree to really sit right or even kind of right in the tree stand again. The first tumble had made some irreparable changes to the structure of the tree and stand. Moved by the jumping exuberance of my children and rather haunted by the thought of what might come up tomorrow if we delayed decorating anymore, I aquiesced to their request to decorate it that very evening. And so, with the smell of fresh cut cedar and smoke wafting through the house, we decorated our tree and sat back to enjoy this year's special moment.
But the story doesn't end there. Oh no that was really just the beginning haha. You seen in all the excitement of decorating it had somehow slipped my mind that our vertically challenged tree, was unbalanced, precariously resting in a bent tree stand, and had never received its support string that would have secured it to the wall. Thankfully I remembered just in time - right after Mariah called me the next day (extremely happy and overflowing with seasonal joy) to inform me the tree had come tumbling down (if your counting this is fall number two). Thankfully all of the glass ornaments survived (somehow) and after a good deal of sweeping up the little stickers that fall off of real cedar trees (socked feet are also extremely effective at gathering these little anti tank fortifications), the tree was back up and tied to the wall. Unfortunately at this point the tree and its relationship to the tree stand had been further altered such that it was now clear it would not and could not stand on its own without the rope tied to the hook on the wall (I did use a festive white and blue striped thick rope though just so everything would match with traditional Christmas themes :)It is at this time that our fourth child and general angelic being, Levi, enters the story.
Isn't that a precious photo? You see Levi loves tractors. I mean absolutely loves them. His first words every morning for months when he wakes up has been "wheres actor?". By which he wants to be told and preferably shown the relationship of our blue farm tractor to his location in the house. He is also of an age where remembering to not do the things he is told not to do is quite difficult. And so for reasons that I am sure will make us chuckle in years to come but remain somewhat of a mystery at this point, a small tractor ornament was placed on the tree at eye level to Levi, on the side of the tree that already had quite a lean to it. At this point I need you to use your imagination and applying the picture above as inspiration, imagine Levi in a passing instant, reaching out towards that tractor in the tree, touching it, and like a drowning man grasping the hand drawing him from the waves - giving it just a little tug. Now imagine Paul Bunyans axe smiting the base of a tree with the final blow of his great axe and it falling, swift and sure, down to the ground. Now if that same tree was covered in lights and Christmas ornaments and narrowly missed the head of my youngest son - you have the right picture in your mind. Strike three, the tree was down. Levi was in tears, and somehow the charm of this year's tree had somehow left Mariah. It was at this point she suggested perhaps the tree had served its purpose for the season and could be taken down now before Christmas? Feeling that would just not be right I dismissed her concerns of a reoccurrence of this gravitational incident, righted the tree and with a few deft knots (I am a renowned knotsmith - just ask anyone) assured her the tree was secure. She dutifully redecorated it, and it stood there like a beacon of joy for at least another 23 hours....Then came the fateful moment - strike four. This time I need you to imagine the exact same situation as before except as the tree falls imagine my small angelic son staring up at the tree as it smokes him in the head on the way down. Needless to say there were many more Levi tears. The tree was once again righted but Mariah looked at me and my knot tying abilities with more skepticism, but the real damage done was to the tree. This fall had done some structural damage, the branches no longer pointed the right way and the lights and ornaments could not have been more artfully arranged had we had hurled them at the tree from our upstairs balcony. With a resigned sigh, I began taking down the tree 6 days before Christmas. It had stood as a beacon of light and a monument of my dedication to my progeny's childhood memories for four memorable days.
