All hayle to the days.

Upon our return from Boston yesterday, we decided to go out in search of a Christmas tree, our first as a couple. We found one at the local Agway that fit the bill: a fragrant balsam fir of modest size and price, which, perhaps most importantly, fit in the car without any rope or rigging.

Our tree upon arrival.
Our tree upon arrival.

We picked up an el-cheapo stand and some lights, and by this afternoon we had the tree watered and set up with the lights on.

In the stand.
Paul, with tree in stand.

An extra shower curtain, green with embroidery, made an excellent tree skirt.

Tree with lights.
The tree with lights.

My mom had sent along some ornaments (both ones I had made or acquired years ago, when last I had a tree of my own, and a few she added); and we added to our collection with a visit to the local Scandinavian store, where we stocked up on painted wood and straw and paper ornaments. Combined with the felt ornaments I had purchased in Berlin, we ended up with enough to fill out our small tree pretty well.

Trimming the tree.
Amrys trimming the tree.
Amrys with the tree.
Amrys with the tree.
Our first Christmas tree.
Our first Christmas tree.

With the carols on, some tea in hand, and the wonderful smell of evergreen, we now have a lovely tree that will brighten our Christmas season.


5 thoughts on “All hayle to the days.

  1. I’m jealous. Here in Tucson a real tree would dry out in just a couple days. Yours is beautiful! Now keep in mind, we have an assortment of ornaments for you to add, if you wish. Your tree could end up spanning continents and centuries in its finery.

  2. At the time of our first Christmas tree,w e were living in Plattsburgh when I was teaching in the English Department. When the students left campus, they were directed to get rid of all the decorations they had accumulated that might be a fire hazard in the dormitories and because the cleaners needed clear areas in which to work. Ruger Street was lined with snowbanks topped by trees in clumps, some stood up, some piled. We found three across from my office and roped them atop the 1969 VW Bug. Of course we only used one, but were able to find homes for the other two in the homes of fellow young faculty members (I had started in fall 1969 at $6900/year, had enjoyed a modest raise + a $1,000 bonus for good work because I had effectively carried a teaching load of 18 hours that first year, both semesters): others were being paid at about the same rate. You have given SWMBO and I something touching to remember: that moment when during a period of intense love not yet settled into the adoration and goodness of contented love we have long enjoyed with one another. Thank you for the warm sense of weeping for this moment.

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