The Christmas Market is a family tradition, but The Martin Family Christmas Tree is a major tradition. Traditionally, for example, in spite of clear and precise demands, eh, helpful instructions [“No, no, no. The other way. You’re knocking needles onto the carpet. It’s not straight. Can’t you just…"] from my spouse, the first several attempts with the Christmas Tree stand end in wretched, abject failure. In these cases, the tree is never perpendicular to the floor. And, when I am finally able to achieve an orthogonal arrangement, Nazy invariably observes that the floor is not parallel to the horizon.
Thus, when it comes time to select a tree, thoughts of Christmas past flow through my mind:
“You chose this, eh,”
“.. Christmas Tree, Nazy..”
“…thing, Dan? Couldn’t you find one that was bushy and tall?”
Or..
“But, Nazy,” I whined. “It had needles on it when I picked it out.”
“It was chopped down in the Yukon during the July thaw, Dan.”
Or..
“It’s not straight, Dan.”
“That’s because the trunk of the tree that you selected, is not…”
“If you knew how to use a Christmas Tree stand…”
Or..
“It’s going to fall, Dan. It’s not straight.”
“It is perfect… oops.”
This year, Nazy’s friend Erica took us to a nearby farm. We selected a large tree (we have a high ceiling in Casa Carmen). The farmer utilized his chainsaw to trim about a meter from the bottom of the tree. (The sky is even higher than our ceiling.) He delivered – and installed the tree:
“Perfect, Dan.” Nazy intoned. “And on the first try. Give him a nice tip.”
Because I agreed that it was perfect (and because I didn't have to install it), I naturally complied. Nazy and I considered the situation after the farmer left.
“The step ladder has a few steps too few,” I noted as I gazed upward. “I think the top is covered in clouds.”
“You’re exaggerating, Dan,” Nazy replied. “I think that I can use the hook to string the lights.”
“What hook?”
“The one we use to open the skylight.”
“A skyhook, eh? That sounds appropriate.”
Official Family Archive Notification
Several ornaments were destroyed during the operation. Dan was not responsible for any of these miscues.
Thus, when it comes time to select a tree, thoughts of Christmas past flow through my mind:
“You chose this, eh,”
“.. Christmas Tree, Nazy..”
“…thing, Dan? Couldn’t you find one that was bushy and tall?”
Or..
“But, Nazy,” I whined. “It had needles on it when I picked it out.”
“It was chopped down in the Yukon during the July thaw, Dan.”
Or..
“It’s not straight, Dan.”
“That’s because the trunk of the tree that you selected, is not…”
“If you knew how to use a Christmas Tree stand…”
Or..
“It’s going to fall, Dan. It’s not straight.”
“It is perfect… oops.”
This year, Nazy’s friend Erica took us to a nearby farm. We selected a large tree (we have a high ceiling in Casa Carmen). The farmer utilized his chainsaw to trim about a meter from the bottom of the tree. (The sky is even higher than our ceiling.) He delivered – and installed the tree:
“Perfect, Dan.” Nazy intoned. “And on the first try. Give him a nice tip.”
Because I agreed that it was perfect (and because I didn't have to install it), I naturally complied. Nazy and I considered the situation after the farmer left.
“The step ladder has a few steps too few,” I noted as I gazed upward. “I think the top is covered in clouds.”
“You’re exaggerating, Dan,” Nazy replied. “I think that I can use the hook to string the lights.”
“What hook?”
“The one we use to open the skylight.”
“A skyhook, eh? That sounds appropriate.”
Official Family Archive Notification
Several ornaments were destroyed during the operation. Dan was not responsible for any of these miscues.
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