Monday, September 22, 2008

Merry Christmas from the Bunyan household

We bought a gorgeous tree last Saturday that stands 8 feet high. We put it in the living room right next to the wall that separates the front door entry from the living room. I bought a new one-piece, high tech, molded plastic tree stand and water container, a rather substantial piece of gear rated to hold trees up to 8 feet tall.

On Sunday, we spent several wonderful, joyous hours trimming this majestic fir. You know, it takes about 6,000 light bulbs to decorate a tree this big. I'm sure it's pulling close to 50 amps. We also hung lots of garland, ribbons and various ornaments we've collected over the years. At the very top, I gently placed our beautiful, singing angel who is dressed in white and holds a candle and her caroling book. By nightfall, it was a masterpiece.

Mary faithfully watered das tannenbaum twice a day and was doing the same on Wednesday. After pouring the first pitcher of water into the single-piece high-tech molded tree stand rated to hold trees up to 8 feet tall (did I mention that this tree is 8 feet tall?), she turned to go refill the pitcher and saw something coming at her in her peripheral vision. Apparently, Mr. Fir had the idea that he would go with Mary to get the second pitcher of water. She turned just in time to deflect the redwood towards the solarium and onto my trombone, which was minding its own business, as always, just sitting nicely on its trombone stand enjoying the sunshine.

The situation appeared to be recoverable. Other than a million needles strewn about the house, Mary concluded that most everything we had put on the tree was still on the tree. She decided to get under the future firewood and upright it. Her only error was not calling 9-1-1 before attempting this Herculean task. With all her might she raised the tree back to a nearly upright position only to notice that Mr. Fir and Mr. Trombone had quickly grown intimate and now Mr. Trombone had joined the rest of the ornaments and was pointing out of the top of the tree towards the sky. Fearing that Mr. Trombone might take a death defying fall from 8 feet if she lowered the tree, Mary struggled mightily to control the sequoia with one arm while trying to rescue the helpless brass instrument with the other. After what she describes as a brief time in hell, she was successful at performing the first known trombone-ectomy in the history of arbortorial medicine.

With the lovers duly separated, Mary leaned the tree back in the corner at a rather steep angle, lest it fancied taking any more trips to the kitchen. When I arrived, I marveled at how the strands of electrical wire connecting the 6,000 light bulbs had switched places with the strands of garland. As a safety measure, and before we spent several more wonderful, joyous hours retrimming our wonderful, joyous tree, I tied my boat’s anchor rope to the top of the tree and ran it up into the loft above, pulling it so tight that the single-piece high-tech molded tree stand rated to hold trees up to 8 feet tall is now 6 inches off the ground.

The last fix was to reconstruct a mount for the angel, who I suspect had something to do with this sinister plot from the beginning. That branch that sticks out of the top of every Christmas tree to hold the angel or star or what-have-you had broken off during the fall. So with my 8-foot ladder, I duct taped a paint stirrer to the top of the trunk, giving me a good 8-inch stick on which to permanently mount the angel. She can't sing anymore because the stick is pressing on her tonsils.

Merry Christmas.

1 comment:

  1. Randy,

    Do you and Mary do house calls? We can have you put up our tree and decorate our place for Christmas since you seem to have a knack for it!

    Merry Christmas from Westfield!

    Don & Janice Humason

    PS Bring the trombone!


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