I’ve had a Christmas tree every year for the past 40 years. A LIVE Christmas tree lit and covered in ornaments rich with memories (not so much when I was one, but you get the idea). And then came Christmas 2011. And I pondered whether I really wanted to go to all that trouble.
Thistle’s first Christmas seemed like a good one to skip. One less thing in the house for her to chew on. One less thing on my hectic holiday schedule. I normally put the tree up about two weeks before Christmas. This year I let December 11 pass with no tree. I decorated the mantel and the dining room. I put out garland and glittery candles. Lovely even with no tree.
But each evening I went to bed, fingers itching to turn out the Christmas tree lights. And when I got up in the morning I missed the soft, golden glow of the pre-dawn tree. So yesterday I caved. I bought a modest, little tree that would actually slide into the backseat of the car. I drove home heady with the scent of pine and I . . . smiled.
Now it feels like Christmas.