>> Monday, November 30, 2009
'Tis the season when we drag out boxes of Christmas ornaments from the attic and decorate the house.
And partly it's because last year, the weekend after Thanksgiving was spectacularly warm and we sat on our porch enjoying the weather and watching our neighbors decorate. We then decorated ourselves the following weekend in bitter cold, howling winds and driving sleet, and thereby belatedly realized our neighbors just might be on to something with their whole early decorating thing.
never shrinking wood pile, and in the afternoon we joined the neighborhood in decorating.
One of the things that gives me pangs every December is our tree. It's fake. It's plastic and metal, came in a cardboard box, and bears warnings about being made out of chemicals known in the State of California to cause cancer. We bought the current tree last year because it was our first year in a real house that could fit a big tree. So we went to a variety of stores and found a full-sized cancer-causing environment-destroying artificial tree to replace our miniature cancer-causing environment-destroying artificial tree.
I also contemplated the carbon dioxide that would have been used by a real tree as it grew to Christmas tree height, and the oxygen it would have given off. And, I contemplated the lack of petroleum involved in getting a live tree from the Christmas tree farm that's right in my own little village.
So, I put together my pre-lit plastic tree year after year, and don't have to wrestle with untangling lights. I arrange the conveniently bendable branches to suit the ornaments. I then scrub that yucky weird film off my fingers and hope it didn't soak into my skin too much, and then try not to think about what it's probably doing to the indoor air quality.
After it's up, I then sit and enjoy basking in its lovely, decorated, non-dying artificial tree glow.