How to get into the Christmas spirit? Because Christmas has become so commercial, it is sometimes difficult to jump or mosey to the tune of buy, buy, buy. I refuse to turn lights on until after Thanksgiving and won’t think about a tree until the 1st of December. At least I still buy a real tree. As long as I can lift the tree into the truck, cut the end off, and haul it in the house, I will have a fresh tree.
I remember my Dad and I would go to the woods, near the Canadian border, where I grew up, and harvest a beautiful Norway pine. At least it was beautiful in its natural setting. We walked through snow up to our knees and realized that we should have dressed warmer because the snow was in my boots, down my neck, and in my mittens. That beautiful tree was harvested now, because we got cold and the tree was a tree, and was pretty enough. Once we got home, it was up to me to saw the end and get it ready to bring inside. This was the same saw my Dad used to cut down the tree in the woods. It was the same saw that he swore he was going to replace some day. I always thought that since I was another year older, I could handle the dull saw. It was sometimes a half hour or more to get through the five or six inches, place it in the tree stand, trim it just so, and then into the house. With sap covered, nicked up, cold fingers I would charge through the door, to the squeals of little sisters excited to decorate the beauty. Once set in the corner, we would step back to look at it. It happened every time. Being a wild tree, the branches were hap hazard, one hear and one there. We would twirl the tree until the best of the lousy sides shown forth. It was a good thing we had enough ornaments, garland, and tinsel for eight trees. That tree was blanketed until those spaces were gone. Finally, Christmas spirit.
