We got our Christmas tree this afternoon which was a simple affair. Partly because the kids are a little older each year and therefore a little less trouble (although there was a tree-branch sword fight which involved more than one whack in the eye), but mostly because it was cold so I set aside my perfectionism and said, "Okay, that one's good enough; let's go inside."
I like big trees. Two years ago I picked out a tree so big we could barely carry it into the house and then we broke the tree stand which made Greg really angry.
Every year, in an effort to get me to buy a smaller tree, Greg tries to convince me that last year's tree was actually shorter than it was, "I think last year we got an 8-9 foot tree." Then, if he could convince me to get a 9 foot tree, the next year he'd say, "I think last year we had a 7-8 foot tree." and so on. I think he'd be happy once we had a 5 foot tree.
I never take the bait and consistently pick out what I consider to be "nice size" trees. In my opinion, any tree that doesn't break the stand is reasonable. And frankly, that stand-breaker was beautiful.
Fortunately for Greg, the ceiling of the room where we put the tree in our new house is lower than the vaulted ceiling in our old one. Therefore, smaller trees. So we picked out a 9-10 foot tree and then stood in line where Greg leered enviously at all the men in line behind us with their sensible sized trees.
I really miss the Noble firs we used to get in California, but we bought a Frasier fir and it's nice enough. We've always had a real Christmas tree, but more and more I can see the draw of an artificial one. I'm not ready to go there yet, but maybe one day. And that one day in the future when we get a fake tree, it's going to be a really big one.
