Although I would probably never entertain not having a Christmas tree as part of my December seasonal decor, the chore of putting it up every year is something I do not get excited about. However, like a good workout or sometimes church, I may not be anxious to do it but am usually happy once it’s done.

I do love a Christmas tree, even those of the Charlie Brown genre, but I really lollygag at putting it up. Perhaps it’s the residual argument memories about getting the lights just right or dealing with burnt out bulbs or (yikes!) serial string lights. But that problem has been solved – we now have a pre-lit artificial tree. Yes, we did the live tree thing for awhile. The smell is nice – well until your olfactory senses get used to it and you just don’t notice it anymore. A trip to a flower shop in December or a conifer-scented candle work just as well to satisfy that pine-y craving.

And then there’s the whole watering-the-tree-while-lying-on-your-stomach-and-getting-water-everywhere-but-in-the-tree-stand thing. I’m loathe to buy one of those new-fangled waterers that eliminate such a problem because it’s just something else I have to store unused for eleven months. Now, there’s no buying-and-hauling of said tree in 20 below weather (because it’s always 20 below when we go to acquire a real tree) and the subsequent 2-hour vacuuming session to clean out my car of tree debris. The car does smell nice afterward, but like the conifer-candle, an old-fashioned Little Tree air freshener does the trick without clogging up your vacuum hose.

For our first Christmas together, Rick and I did have a real tree. We were on a pretty tight budget but had decided to squander $20 on a cut tree from Superstore. We brought it home to our apartment – blissfully unaware that real trees were probably against the rules, a fire hazard – and unwrapped it to find out a quarter of our tree was missing. We should have only paid $15. No matter, we turned that part to the wall and decorated the heck out of “the good side”. And then we left for two weeks. When we returned – now wised up to the fact that the tree was in fact verboten – we had to adios that tree without anyone noticing. Rick quickly hauled the tree down the long hallway to the back of the building while I followed with the vacuum to eliminate the tell-tale trail.

It’s a fun memory, along with the those of unpacking decorations one by one and handing them to the boys to hang up – and then later rearranging them – on the many trees we’ve had over the years. One year – again on a tight budget – our second-hand artificial tree simply did not work anymore and so we made do with a tiny clothes-hanger-and-tinsel tree. Santa still came. And the decorations themselves – a pineapple from Hawaii, a covered bridge from Vermont, the clothespin soldiers the boys made – they evoke their own stories.

I’m not sure if I’ll ever get past procrastinating at putting up the tree. But it’s non-negotiable, so it will get done. And, once up, it will be enjoyed.