My Tree Story

Many years ago I was single and living in a cute little 2 bedroom rental. I wanted a real tree as I'd grown up with fake trees and they had no scent or character. Now that I was an adult and independent, I could do what I damn well pleased, couldn't I?!  Where the Kootenay Co-op is now there used to be tree sales at Christmastime... perhaps the Rotary Club? I took my hand-me-down-from Mom-K-Car station wagon down there and bought a pretty little spruce. The guy threw it in the back of my station wagon and I drove home, loving the scent and excited about decorating my REAL tree. I was such a mature woman to do this on my own, was I not?

The first thing I discovered upon arriving at home was that I was unable to get the tree out of the back of the wagon. It went in base first, and was all spread out, so when I pulled on the end of it, it got all caught up inside. And the needles were sharp. Fast forward half hour and two pints of blood later. The tree was extracted and in the house. I was breathing heavy, sweating and needed a glass of wine.

Then I tried to put the tree in the tree stand. I discovered that a twenty-three year old girl is not capable of holding up a 75-lb tree and tightening those four screws all at the same time. An hour and two pints of sweat later, I couldn't see out the windows, which I'd fogged up with my sweating and grunting... and probably the swearing too.

By the time I got the tree upright, I could see that it was tilted in a really bad way. I got hammer, nails, and string out and tied it to the wall in 4 different places. I never did decorate it either. And I never had another real tree till I got married. I also drink too much wine now. Stupid tree.