We got our tree this weekend!! It is early for me, but it was the window of opportunity that worked for the whole family. Oh, what a treat it was to wake late and feel the bright Saturday morning sun on my face and the sweet breath of Nattie B on my cheek. Lorelai's faintest of pitter patters heralded her arrival at my bedroom door and Axel Henry, long and lanky in his PJ's, was right behind her. They were ready to start the day. We paraded down the stairs following the thundering cascade of canines. Parents soon came to plant morning kisses on their children's faces, grown up hands reaching for coffee and tea.
Aunt Jackie arrived with bacon and eggs and we filled our bellies before bundling up for adventure.
We took the old Volvo wagon around the bend and pulled up against the snow fence that keeps the younguns in the coral of evergreens. A fire was going, cider was mulling, and the country gal who owned this small business came out wearing a plaid flannel shirt and a beautiful, genuine smile. Ahhhhh, the blessings of small town life.
Axel, being almost twelve, was champin' at the bit. He knew he was gonna get a chance to be on one end of the saw. To keep him busy, we handed him a bright red, ten foot, two by two, marked off in one foot lines to carry around and measure up any trees that struck our fancy. He was satisfied. Not necessarily safe to be near, but satisfied.
"Too tall. Too short. Too prickly. Really? No., Too big! " The chorus rang out in the cold, crisp air. The little girls rans on little legs and the pre-teen swung his stick. One or two possiblilties noted, we headed south and then up the small hill. " This one? What about this one? I like this one. " the big girls chimed.
And then it was over. Elizabeth called for me to look at one on the edge of the lot. "It's curly, just like Natalie's hair." she sang; and it is. My story book tree looks like she had a permanent. Or perhaps she has tentacles, or sweet fluid limbs that sway in the breeze, just like Lorelai the ballerina. Whatever you call them, my response was immediate. "Start Cutting!" I called out, "we're done!"
Axel was in his glory. He and Aunt Elizabeth made quick work of it and soon he was dragging our curly girl up the hill to the waiting and watching operator. Tossing it through the magic string wrapper, lilke a lumberjack, she left us free to toast marshmallows and pick out baubles for the little ones to carry home.
The tired toddlers in bed, the tree rested in the stand. I was mesmerized. I just turned sixty and I have never seen any thing like it. After naptime and the local parade of the Christmas puppets was over, the ornaments stood with anticipation. Never before had they hung from the curve of such graceful limbs. Tender shoots curled under to hold our treasures. One branch, curving in and then out, holds, three, count them three ornaments, each facing a different direction. I feel like I have a new grandchild. I want everyone to come and see. " look, look, " I want to shout, her name is........"
Her name is. I am thinking she is the makings of a children's book. She reminds me of Ursula in The Little Mermaid, but then again, she does not. I looked up Ursula. it means Little She Bear. Just doesn't work, though the title Ursula is Thirsty is a catchy title.
Ursula. For now, my tree is Ursula. And I love her.
It's almost Christmas. May your tree hunting be as merry.
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