I’m no pro, but I’m fairly certain it is NOT in the spirit of the season to be cursing our Christmas tree. Although, to be fair, one dear friend opined that perhaps that very much IS the spirit of the season.
For something that is supposed to be as “festive” and “fun” as holiday decorating, there sure does seem to be another fast-track to the “F-word.” I’m speaking, of course, of “frustration.”
In sharing my ongoing battle with a Christmas tree (the tree is winning by the way), I heard from people who shared their own “treasured memories.” One said the first time she heard a “bad swear word” was when her dad was setting up the Christmas tree. Another shared that she grew up in a very loving family but it was “almost mandatory to have an argument while putting up the tree. In fact, it became a family joke. It usually ended with my Dad tossing those metallic icicles at the tree from his recliner!” That is hysterical. It is also very understandable.
Antique
For a variety of very good reasons we are an artificial tree family. I love them overall but sometimes they do try my patience. Why is something that is supposed to be “easier” somehow so complicated? I’m beginning to suspect that “new and improved” is not actually better. As an example, my mother had the same artificial tree, a Montgomery Ward version, for my entire childhood. That tree lasted easily 25 years at her home before she passed it on to me. Our kids enjoyed it as their special “children’s tree” for years. It eventually broke clear in half and we STILL tried to keep using it, for sentimental reasons. We lovingly referred to it as the Christmas Shrub. Eventually we did have to retire the tree. We also had a great artificial tree that we purchased when we were newlyweds in 1996. It had about a million or so color-coded branches that had to be hooked, individually, into the metal “trunk.” It took forever but was methodical in its own way. Mr. Wonderful, true to his name, had an entire system where he zip-tied each section and packed it carefully away. Then each holiday decorating season, the weekend after Thanksgiving, we would gather in the foyer to unpack and assemble it while bickering. “I said an ORANGE section, not red. This is RED!” Eventually the little colored tips on the hooks wore off to where it seemed safer for our marriage to replace the tree.
New and improved artificial trees are all folding and sectioned and just generally supposed to be easier to click together — ostensibly. In reality I ended up with an ongoing rotation of subpar trees. Each started out strong but soon seemed to falter under the weight of even minimal ornamentation. To be fair there was also one we tried to store in the barn and it ended up infested with squirrels. Sure that DID lend an authentic air, but then again, no.
We once installed a tree with an entire section OUT OF PLACE. The base was slimmer than the middle. It was ridiculous. We also did not even notice for three days until a young visitor pointed it out. We still laugh about that one. After a certain point we were all just so over it that we didn’t actually look directly at it.
Flock
A few years ago I fell under the spell of yet another “F-word.” That word is “flocked.” Flocking is when a tree is covered in small synthetic fibers in order to create a soft, new fallen snow texture. Or, in the case of our tree, to be sure to coat every pet in your house in a layer of “fake frost” that is difficult to remove from fur. Ditto floors and other surfaces. I do enjoy seeing our pets decked out in holiday finery — but I’m thinking cute sweaters, not artificial snow.
Yes, the tree is STUNNING when lit. It glows ethereal white. It also causes so many cuts and scratches during set-up that gloves and safety glasses are recommended. I, of course, never remember this until I’ve already been brutally attacked by a tree. I have festive holiday cuts now.
