The Goblin Tree

I guess since I my family always had artificial trees, and because Brenda and I always had artificial when we were married, that I somehow turned the process of getting one into this amazingly difficult process.  It wasn't until two years ago that I actually purchased my first real tree, although I have yet to go as far as actually going to a farm and cutting my own (maybe next year).  Obviously, I didn't have a real tree last year in Abu Dhabi, although I did help Laura buy a little artificial one this year on my last visit.  So, this was my second adventure in getting a real tree.  Being a man, and thus having absolutely no imagination, I just went to Home Depot (where I picked up my first one).  After going through the trauma of trying to decide between a Frazer and a Balsam (and wondering why I didn't write down what I had before), I chose the loneliest little asymmetrical tree that I figured a good home.  Partially I figured this would make Laura happy, because she's the type of person who would go to the pound and pick out the ugliest dog there for much the same reason (although I guess that throws open the question of why she chose me), and partially because of my own similar odd desire to "look after" lonely inanimate objects (I one time got really sad looking at some used suitcases in the window of a second hand shop in Omaha, Nebraska and had to fight the urge to liberate them).  After I chose my tree I asked where the tree stands were, and was informed that they were out of stock and no one had thought to reorder - and they didn't think that anyone else had any either.  Of course, this led to a ridiculous twitter rant on the utter buffoonery of all things Vermont, but also left me with a quandry: should I buy my lonely little tree if I couldn't be assured of having a stand?  For once I let discretion be the better part of valor and left my little green friend waiting expectantly as I went off in search of a tree stand, which turned out to be easy because the Christmas Trees store around the corner was awash in them.  So, between the two stores and picked up what I needed, including the good folks at Home Depot, most notably Moe, helped get me squared away - including cutting two inches off the bottom of the tree (so it could more effectively drink water) and somehow get the tree into my car.  Once home I had a lovely thersitical fit as I tried to get the tree into the stand by myself, while balancing it with one hand and tightening the screws with the other - and somehow not throwing out my back again.  The lights and decorations are on, and I even have a bizarre little angel on top (which, despite my best efforts, continues to lean to one side which inspired Laura to comment that she looked drunk, which, of course, made me think of Drunken Angel by Lucinda Williams, which I can now not get out of my head).  It's amazing how something as simple as having the tree can make you happy.  For any number of silly reasons I've started referring to it as the Goblin Tree.  In the end, it's making me happy and the tree has a warm, safe home for the holidays.

Moe wrestling the tree while a couple inches were taken off the bottom.  I was assured the tree didn't feel a thing and would be much better off after the procedure.

Yes, my tree stand looks like a little sled.

"It's really not such a bad little tree."