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Last night, after City Boy and my son Joel had gone to bed, I decided to put up the Christmas tree.  Of course, it’s artificial, because I’m lazy and don’t like to take care of a live tree.  Frank and I had given away our last tree to a friend of mine right before we moved–seems Frank didn’t want to have to load it onto the moving truck.  As if a tree in a box takes up that much room.  You wouldn’t believe the stuff he tried to get me to leave behind!  

Anyway, Frank said if I gave the tree up he would get me another one when we moved here.  Well, he did, but not without me prodding him to do so.  A friend from church had given us a white tree, but it wasn’t very tall (we have vaulted ceilings), not to mention it had aqua, pink, and yellow lights, so I put it in our bedroom.  Of course, City Boy was stunned that I did not want to use that tree in the living room as our only tree.  “Why would you put that tree in our bedroom?!” he said, aghast.   Anything to keep from having to buy a tree.

 

I like white trees okay–I just don’t know what to do with them.  Especially when they have pink lights.  So, I told Frank I needed to get a few things at the store to decorate the tree, since the ornaments we had would not go well on that tree.  Again, he was stunned.  “Why do you need to get decorations for it?!  It already has lights!!”

I guess he was already upset that he was going to have to buy me a tree after all, so buying decorations for it sent him off the deep end.  So, I went minimal on them.  

My son took me shopping and I bought a tree while Frank was at work.  It spared both of us the trauma of my husband having to do any kind of shopping.  Another day I’ll tell you how he is to shop with.

So, I’m putting up the new tree.  I nearly lost my religion trying to set that thing up.  The directions, which were probably written in another language and then translated, were extremely simplified to the point of making no sense.  The diagram appeared to have been engineered by a gradeschooler.

After a few hours of getting my arms stuck raw from having to dig through the tree looking for various cords while fending off the dog at the same time I was crawling under the tree with a flashlight, the tree was standing, all lit up.

 

So, there she is–the tree from hell.

And here’s the tree’s sidekick–the little dog, and the other reason it took forever to get the job done…

 

I think Little Dog needs to go live somewhere else until the holidays are over.  Well, I guess that would be mean.  She thinks I actually like her.  Well, I guess I do, so scratch that.

 

What are ya’ gonna’ do?  Maybe I’ll tell City Boy tomorrow that I dropped the bin of tree decorations and now I need new ones.