Wednesday 18 December 2013

christmas tree

This afternoon we put the Christmas tree up.  Standing it securely in its pot turned out to be more of a performance than it sometimes is, not helped by the Systems Administrator's cracked rib.  I sawed a foot off the bottom with my new bow saw (memo to self, don't stint on replacement blades, a sharp saw is a wonderful thing) and we tried to wedge it in the centre of its stand, then I tightened the screws.  As soon as the SA let go of the trunk it toppled forwards.  We tried again with it lying down, pressing the trunk on the three pins in the middle of the holder and screwing it in place, but no luck.  Eventually, and with slight reluctance, I accepted that we (or rather I) was going to have to saw a large branch at the base off.  Relieved of its imbalanced limb, the tree then consented to remain upright, though to be on the safe side it is lashed to the handle of the veranda door with a piece of green gardening wire.

Then came the annual debate over the lights, which were the new lights versus which were the old ones.  My vote went to the two identical strings put away in separate Waitrose bags, which I'd found near the front of the wardrobe in the spare room, and which appeared to match the two packs of spare bulbs packed away on top of the baubles.  The SA was pretty sure we bought new lights last year, because the old ones wouldn't work if any of the bulbs were missing, and we'd run out of spare bulbs.  After a while the SA agreed that I was in charge, and had better have final say on the lights.

I normally decorate the tree.  There are families in which everyone does it together, but the SA is happy to retreat to a safe distance, only to reappear at the very end and pronounce the result delightful.  Which is the correct answer.  After years of practise I have the routine down to a fine art.  The lights go on first, obviously, once I've finished untangling them on the floor.  This lot didn't tangle themselves up as badly as some, and both strings worked first time.  I switch them off to arrange them, because I always find the annual Christmasnews  report about someone electrocuting themselves on their fairy lights so depressing, then once their on the tree I switch them on to check there aren't any strange dark holes, rearrange them if necessary, and turn them off to add the decorations.

I don't believe in fashion when it comes to Christmas trees.  Part of the point is to get the familiar things out every year, bringing back memories of where you bought them, and Christmases past. The decorations near the top go on before the others, because I need to push the step ladder in among the lower branches to reach the top.  The angel in a red dress with gauze wings gets pole position, while the fatter angel with tartan wings goes lower down.  Then the nicer and more fragile things go further up and to the sides, where they are unlikely to be accidentally swept off and broken.  The gaps are filled in with cheap and cheerful balls in red, gold and silver, and the most vulnerable branches at the base are decked with metal and straw ornaments that the cats won't break.  Our cats are getting too old to bother taking a swipe at them, but they do tend to like to sleep under the tree.

There is a set of long, slender glass drops in deep red, bought years ago from Heals, and a few clear glass ones with frosted stars on bought at the same time, but more of them have got broken. There are three huge, fat glass baubles I got in Cracow, on holiday with my parents.  There is a wooden jointed teddy bear, bought from the sadly defunct Shaker Shop in Marylebone.  I'm not convinced the Shakers went in for Christmas trees, but the whole thing is a cultural muddle anyway.  There's a giraffe angel with wings, and a sinister hanged black cat with a red scarf and mittens.  New for this year are the gingham stars from the Warner Textile Archive fair.  I like to buy a couple of new things each year, while sticking to the red and gold, Victorian Christmas meets Shaker homespun aesthetic.

It looks jolly nice, though I say so myself.  I must remember to put some water in the pot.

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