Christmas Tree Time

It’s time to get our Christmas tree.   It’s a custom in the Jackson household to find our tree….not among the dozens that line the grocery store sidewalks or even among the beautiful trees available at the nursery. That’s not what I’m talking about.  That would be just too easy.  Almost like cheating. 

No, we Jacksons take this tree stuff serious.   George’s job is to scout one out.  This process takes the better part of the year.  He’ll have one or two that he’s “watching” and keeping them in mind for the year they are ready.

Mind you, we don’t own any Christmas tree farm.  We prefer to poach.  That’s kin to stealing.  I tell you, it’s something to behold.  Once the tree has been spotted….often by boat sliding up some remote creek, we fortify ourselves with boots, gloves and chainsaw.  This “sting” has to be fast and as nonchalant as one can possibly pull off.  Very inconspicuous.  It’s not that easy dragging an 8 foot cedar tree down a ditch embankment on the Camden Causeway.  Most everybody headed to town for the day rides by….some folks wave.  I swear.

And we’ve brought home some real winners.  One year the sap “let down” after the tree was trimmed and the presents were under the tree with care.  Oh my.  Talk about a sticky mess. Then there was the time that thousands of baby spiders hatched out during the night while we were “all snuggled in our beds,” and we came down stairs to find webs crisscrossing the living room.  

 Some trees are huge (they didn’t look that tall in nature) some are small, sparse and pitiful, but once they get hauled in and gusseted up….they’re all perfect. 

A disclaimer:  All of our trees have been on public easements or buried in a vast woodland and are in danger of some kind or another….clinging to a ditch bank, fledging under another massive tree or something like that.  George says that Aldo Leopold would say, “George left the site better than he found it.”  I’m just saying.