I’ve had a lot of Christmas trees in my time but never a real one with needles. My mum always told me those needles were too prickly and I think I believed her. Once when I was young, I remember we had a gold tinsel affair which was pretty jazzy and I imagine, a serious fire hazard. I guess it’s a good thing they don’t make them like that anymore.
David and I met in November 2004 and happily lived Love’s Young Dream for a month before we headed home to our respective parents for a Christmas en famille. After my annual overdose of food, TV and Baileys Irish Cream over the festive few days, mother and I headed out to the sales.
Depending on which way you look at it, I’m a bargain hunter or a tight arse, but at the end of the day, I love to save pennies. I especially love to save a lot of pennies. In case you don’t believe me, I should tell you that I currently have four money boxes on the go (and they’re all almost empty.) Anyways, in the post Christmas euphoria of 2004 I bought my very own Christmas tree. It was white, it was wonderful and it was half price! The only technical hitch was that it was so big, as in 6ft tall big, I couldn’t carry it back on the 3 hour train trip home. I figured if the worst came to the worst, I would transport it a bundle of branches at a time on each home visit. After all, I had a whole 12 months to get the job done!
David and I had quite the love thang going on in 2004 and by Easter, we decided it was time to meet the parents. Everyone fared better than those Fockers in the movie of the same name, and the up side for me, was that when David came to my mom’s, he got the priviledge of carrying the Christmas tree home! We must have looked quite a sight carrying a humungous tree on the train at Easter time, and as the box was so clearly labelled, everyone knew what was inside.
We enjoyed our first Christmas together that year, with our first “together” tree. Our christmas tree navigated the globe with us, when we moved from London to Sydney. Every year when we put up the tree, we retell the train tale, I have a little laugh about it and David mumbles and grumbles. I don’t think he’ll ever get over the shame of it!
Is your tree the real deal or a great fake? Does your tree have a story to tell?
