Chris and I enjoyed a nice motorcycle ride today to Pt. Defiance, kicking up all kinds of leaves along the way. Got home and raked up a few more from our back yard when it hit me just how soon the holidays will be upon us. It also made me recall one of my best holiday memories ever.
December 1996, our last year as DINKs (that's Dual Income, No Kids in case you forgot). I was "out to here" pregnant with our first child, who we both assumed would be a boy...that's a whole other story...
Chris and I decide to go into the wilderness and chop down a perfectly good tree for display it in our living room. We don't want to push our luck so stop by the Park Ranger office in Lynnwood to purchase our tree permit as we travel from our home in Ballard on to the forest near Monte Cristo. It's a cold day but the roads are bare and dry, no snow. And for once, our car doesn't break down either. We spy plenty of nice traditional trees but one species catches both our eye. It's not like a Noble or Blue Spruce or Charlie Brown Christmas tree...neither of us know exactly what kind of tree it is. But we both like it and after a few strokes with the saw, she's secured on the top of our Cherokee. We begin our descent back to civilization and eventually pass a Park Ranger. He looks at us, up at the tree, back at us and then makes a motion for us to stop. Our hearts skip a beat. Boy are we glad we took time to buy that permit! He stops his rig even with Chris' driver window. "Hey there, do you know what kind of tree you got there?". "Ummm, actually...no. We have no idea." Chris replies. I am convinced we've unknowingly cut down a rare species and are soon going to be fined heavily or escorted to jail. He says "well, that's a Western Hemlock." (is it redundant to describe the following 10 seconds of silence as a pregnant pause?!) I'm not sure which of us spoke first but one of us finally pries our tongue off the roof of our mouthes to ask "is that bad?" The ranger replies, "No. But folks don't usually want them for Christmas trees. They dry out really fast and drop their needles just as quick!" We tell him we'll do our best to keep the tree happy and continue on our way. In my mind I start to conjure up every recipe I've ever heard on how to keep your tree moist: aspirin, sugar, honey, alka seltzer, the fancy packet they give you at the floral shop...I might just use ALL of them to make sure our tree makes it to Christmas day.
As we continue on our drive, part of us wants to toss the Western Hemlock off to the side of the road and cut down yet another perfectly good tree, one that's more suitable for a Christmas tree. But we decide to abide by the permit, which is good for ONE tree. We take our fragile cargo back home, decorate the hell out of it and hope for the best. I am a very olfactory-based gal and I comment that our tree has no scent whatsoever. Hopefully when it warms up it will start to smell like Christmas. We got the tree fairly late in the holiday season, within a week of Christmas if I recall. I had to work that week but Chris was fortunate enough to have a couple extra days off. I got up the next day and noticed there was still no holiday tree scent in the air. Off to work, the tree is the last thing on my mind. I get home and notice that the tree is sort of droopy and a bit, well...sad looking. This is not good. By the next morning as I head out the door for work there are approximately 4 pounds of tree needles on our carpet. I cannot believe my eyes. Our ornaments look ridiculous on our otherwise naked tree. Holy crap! That park ranger wasn't kidding! I am so sad. Remember, I am pregnant...I am HUGE...and I am an unstable mixture of emotions. My tree is dead, my house doesn't smell like Christmas, I have to work while hubby has a few days off...and I can't even have a beer! I cry all the way to work and feel like an idiot which makes me cry even harder.
The day over, I pull up into our driveway and notice a trail of tree needles from the front door down the walkway. I must've tracked those out when I left this morning. I open the front door and am instantly overcome with the smell of Christmas tree. What the?! I look to the corner where our Charlie Brown tree drooped this morning and in its place is a fully decorated, proud as you please, traditional Christmas tree. Again, I start bawling! I can only imagine how much time Chris spent undecorating and completely redecorating a new tree before I got home.
It will always be one of the best Christmas gifts ever and recalling his thoughtfulness and determination makes me tear up every time. I don't remember a single gift I received that particular Christmas but I will never forget our tree!
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