Leaning Tower of Tree-sa

Last Thursday I came home and found our Christmas tree had arrived.  J and I debated about getting a tree considering we will be home in SLC, but it is our first Christmas together.  The tree was freshly cut from Oregon and was wrapped in twine and a bag.  J had assessed that given our type of tree stand, we would need to drill a hole in the bottom of the trunk.  This of course required us to go find a bit the size of the pole.  By 8:45 I was ready to call it a night hoping that we could push off the tree drama until the next day.  However, after I was reminded of the countless parties, Christmas Carol play, and other scheduled events I realized the tree couldn't be postponed.  I truly was a grumpy Grinch while my husband was so excited about the tree he was doing everything but tap dancing.  What finally elevated my mood was his pleading as well as then opening up the mail shipping order slip.  J had sent a message, "To Edgar-dog.  Remember that there are differences between inside trees and outside trees."  It was silly, but it made my heart melt (or in the Grinch's case, grow two sizes too big.)

In my pajamas, we went to the hardware store.  (I really wasn't kidding when I said I was ready to call it a night.)  We found the bit.  On our way home, J was asking about doing the lights too that evening.  I told my overzealous husband to not get too committed as I was already anticipating the drama.  I have had girlfriends whose engagements have almost come to a halt due to a Christmas tree whether it be the tree, the lights, the decorations, etc..  My reality was far from my husband's idealized romantic notion of Christmas.

It was very dark and unseasonably warm.  It was in the 60's or so during the day so standing outside in your pj's wasn't bad.  There we were on our front stoop, hovering around the yellow porch light trying to decide scientifically where to begin drilling the hole and how to make it straight.  "Go up the middle."  That was my solution.  It seemed straight enough to me when we put it flat on the cement.  We practiced a bit on spare wood scraps and then began with the tree.  That sucker was hard.  I finally had the brilliant idea that perhaps the sawdust was getting in the way of making progress forward.  Sure enough, it was.  We would drill, then clear out sawdust, then drill again, etc etc etc.  When we thought it was done, we hauled it inside to the stand.  After some maneuvering, it stood...kind of.  Well, it was more like leaning at a 45 degree angle and resting on the windows for support.  I broke into a fit of laughter.  This just made J more angry. 

"Are you laughing at me?"

I'm rolling on the floor.  "Nope, just the situation.  Its just typical.  I know you want things to be perfect."

"Yes."

"Its like the wedding.  So many things went wrong, but who cares?  It turned out perfect for us."

He concluded that he needed something to drink.  So at 11:20 or so on a work night, we broke out some port and took the tree back outside.  By now, Edgar is really confused with the activity.

We recalulated the angle to straighten the tree out and proceeded to drill and saw a little off the bottom for water uptake.  At one point in time J pulled the bit out of the tree.  I forgot that there was a LED light that glowed blue and helped navigate where you are drilling, but that's not what I saw.

"Wow!  That drill bit is really hot!  Its glowing!"  I exclaimed.

"Al, its the LED light.  Yup, back to the spontaneous combusting tree theory again for you."

We finally got the tree back into the house and into the stand.  It was still a little crooked, but much much better.  While I finished off the port, J began with the lights.  I actually found a man who enjoys doing lights!  My father used to be meticulous in this, but as he got older he just seemed bothered by the whole task but wouldn't give it up.  He would be happy just winding one strand around and around the whole tree then calling it good.  (I exaggurate, but not by much.) 

As the night was winding down at 1:30, Edgar needed to go outside.  J offered to take him.  He came back in laughing.

"As if this night couldn't get any worse.  Edgar pooped and while I was aiming for the garbage, his poop bag landed in the rain gutters."  We decided to wait until the next day to fix that problem.

Making Merry

Today J's pager went off unexpectantly and early.  I mean, cock-a-doodle-dog wasn't even up kind of early.  He was on jeapordy call and wouldn't you know, someone got ill and he had to go in.  I felt completely ripped off of a day with my husband. 

We had plans, damnit.  We were actually going to try and decorate the house for Christmas.  Our tree still hasn't arrived, but we could do things like put up garlands, go find a wreath, actually have a fire in the fireplace since I hired the chimney sweep last week to give us a green light.  But nooooo.  Some stupid colleague actually broke the super-human myth that doctors are supposed to live up to and got sick enough they sent him home.  (I keep telling J that this does in fact happen when he's hacking up a lung or swearing he'll steal some pedialite to keep himself hydrated from the children's hospital, but he doesn't listen and still believes he is superman with a pager and a stethoscope.)  At any rate, I got left to make merry all by myself.

J and I have done some Christmas stuff.  We made mulled wine last night.  We made cookies this week.  (Mind you, we have an odd assortment of cookie cutters so I made the usual snowmen and angels, but I threw in some Christmas rhinoceros and frosted them purple, much to J's horror of my unconventionality.)  We also made a warm veggie stew on a cold winter's night (which actually was quite bland.)  And yesterday we did brave the malls to go find a winter forest candle from Williams Sonoma for the house.  Some Christmas stuff, but not a ton.

I decided I really needed some human interaction.  Staying at home cleaning with the dog wasn't going to make my spirits bright and I could just see J's disappointed face if he were to come home post-call tomorrow morning and saw that I decided I needed a little bit of Christmas solo.  I ended up calling my co-hostess from the turkey party.  She's the only one I know that is only semi-non-medical or work related here.  I suggested brunch.  I quickly confined houndini and thought nothing of my messy house as I headed out the door. 

It was a nice brunch.  I felt girlie gossiping and whatnot over lattes.  Just as I was ready to head home, she said, "Ok, so I should totally go run errands, but instead I'm going to invite myself over to your house."

I thought she was joking.  Nope.  I quickly did a mental scan of the dirty laundry on the floor, dishes half unloaded from the dishwasher, Edgar's toys everywhere, and J's papers all over the back room.  She came over and began commenting on our decor. 

"Its very neutral, but we could totally work with this."  She exclaimed opening the doors into the master bedroom with the bed unmade.  "I love the desk, but its not in a good place for it to be shown off.  I really see that storage is an issue for you guys.  Perhaps an armoir?  What do you think about a warm beige paint to warm up the walls?" 

I found myself a bit overwhelmed, making excuses why things weren't Martha Stewartesque.  "We?" I thought.

"Its my inner designer." She proclaimed.  "I watch a lot of cable and get my ideas from there." 

With the ideas she was throwing around I thought J wouldn't even notice a few garlands over the fireplace.

And You Wonder Why My Biggest Fear is Fire

A recent conversation at a local Starbucks enjoying eggnog lattes:

"So if we order the Christmas tree from Costco, it will arrive on the 12th and we can enjoy it until we head to Utah." 

"Ok. But we have to take it down before we leave.  Otherwise its a fire hazard."

An eyebrow raises, "Explain that.  This is why we unplug the lights."

"Yes, but Christmas trees can spontaneously implode and burn up.  I don't want our house to burn down while we are gone."

A smile begins to spread, "Again, Al, this is why we unplug the lights.  No electrical source."

"But this is what my parents told me when I was little.  The tree is drying up and can catch on fire easier."  Even as the words were coming out of my mouth, they sounded ridiculous.

"Uh huh.  Its already dead the minute it is cut down."

"But it takes up water."

"Yeah, not because its alive.  Its osmosis.  So your argument is that the tree is dead and drying up therefore it can spontaneously combust and cause a fire eventhough it doesn't have any electrical source going to it."

"Well, again, this is what my parents told me."

"Wait, Al, let me not freak you out or anything, but we have 2x4's in the walls everywhere in the house.  We have wooden furniture.  They could combust any second!"  The sarcasm and teasing were dripping and his smile was wide.

"Huh. I can't believe I thought it was true for 31 years of my life."