Hey! I'm Posting Here!

 So I have been commisioned to post about our Christmas Tree. It is a douglas fir standing at a majestic 5 feet and a handful of inches above ground, magically obtained through seasonal Christmas surprise!


There is quite a difference in how my mum's family celebrated holidays back in the day and how my dad's family celebrated. Basically, My Mom's family was very big on the excitement of the day coming and celebrating and making the day great and present-filled or tradition filled. My dad's family was like "Oh yeah, John, it's your birthday this month, what do you want?" At least that's how I saw the two families growing up.


My own family leaned toward the traditions of my mom's family. We all have matching hand-knitted Christmas stockings ("we all" means everyone from my grandparents down to every single great grand child) I remember all the lengths my parents went through to make sure we had good holidays. I even remember a sleigh ride and seeing real reindeer one year on Christmas eve. I was the typical kid who never slept Christmas eve for the excitement. Then I went on a mission.


Missions are great, don't get me wrong. They are great in all the right ways. But they ended up killing the excitement of holidays pretty well. I remember walking down the street in Uruguay and have my Paraguayan mission companion remind me that it was the fourth of July. I remember my Christmases were hallmarked with and extra few hours of not working and a 20 min phone call home. Birthday packages came weeks or months late and missing items. All other holidays didn't exist for missionaries. Coming home, I eventually found myself saying "hey Mom! its my birthday in a couple months. Can you help me buy this thingywhatsitcalled? and the actual day was nice but had missed the magic (?) of having someone else orchestrate how your day was going to be really special.


Being married, the nonchalant attitude toward special days is dangerous. For example. I remember the day my dad forgot his anniversary*. Somehow the relief society found out (....mom?) and my dad received several kind "reminders" from the sisters the weeks before Oct 30 for years afterwards. I am not totally convinced calling John Stephens in mid-october was not an official RS calling. While I didn't, haven't, hopefully won't repeat that grave a mistake (good one dad...), I have noticed something lacking in my new little family's celebrations.


I saw our Christmas going down the same street this year as it did last year. No decorations, no tree, no lights. But I also know more about Charisse. And how those little sighs and longings for festivity actually mean something! So I decided to try harder this year.


With a little Christmas magic subsidizing our strung budget, I started packing Harry up and told Charisse that we were leaving. She feigned annoyance at me not telling her where I was dragging her, and she feigned even more annoyance when I said it was an hour away and she feigned even more annoyance when I had to turn around to get cash out of out machine. Eventually, though, she caved and guessed that we were going to... CUT DOWN OUR OWN CHRISTMAS TREE!!!


We got there an hour later and drove up to this little festive home in the hills a bit north of Santa Cruz, CA. Harry was all bundled in his bomber jacket and we waited in line to figure out how it all worked. I grabbed a hand saw and we were off! we climbed a hill, crossed a stream ventured into a grove of trees here and there. That tree was too tall for our budget, that one looked like a dog toy, that one Harry called "obtuse" (whatever that means... He wouldn't elaborate...) Eventually we found one. It was perfect. The right size, shape, race, everything! but then we saw a better one so we cut it down and dragged it to the car where latinos tied it to our roof. We drank hot cider, paid the troll under the bridge, and I may as well have shot and killed a trophy deer the smile on my face.


Then we drove an hour back, I almost fell asleep so Charisse drove the rest of the way and did not crash. We got home, put it up, decorated it, called my dad to tell him about it, learned we were probably killing it because we didn't chop off the base before putting it in water, did that, and now we have a Christmas tree! I love it. It is the best tree I have ever had and among my best Christmas surprises.

*correction = birthday