Today we continue our Holiday Season Extravaganza.  Between now and December 25, we will share what it means to celebrate the holidays — Life in Pencil style.

Posted by Anne

When I think of “simplicity” during the holidays, there’s one tradition that doesn’t spring to mind.  It also just happens to be one of my favorite holiday traditions.  LOVE it.  Cherish it.  It’s right up there with carols and stockings.  And there’s nothing simple about it.

The Christmas Tree.  There’s quite a bit involved, if you think about it.  Trudging your way through woods—or at least a cold Christmas tree farm or lot.  Stuffing it into the back end of your car, or perhaps even tying it to the top of your unaccommodating vehicle.   The shower of pine needles in your hallway as you haul it into the living room.  Sure, decorating is arguably simple (if you can find that box of ornaments in the garage).  But then there’s the final kicker—disposing of the darn thing on December 26^th.  Or in our case, January 26^th. 

Truthfully?   The ordeal of the Christmas tree has always been part of the charm.  Even a point of pride.  When I became an “adult” (yes, I’m using air quotes), I eagerly anticipated my first independently purchased Christmas tree.  It was a fairly awkward affair, involving an overly large tree stuffed in a Volkswagon Jetta, a vacuum cleaner clogged by pine needles, and some feeble attempts at sawing off the bottom so it sat evenly in its stand.  It was a pain in the rear.  But still, I was proud of my tree.  

Once we got it inside, this tree looked seriously pretty puny. But don't I look great wielding a saw?

And then there was last year.  It was Ryan’s and my first tree as a married couple.  In a nod to our new Northwestern home, we ventured into the wilderness, and chopped down our own tree.  This sounds very impressive.  It’s not.  Since the circumference of the trunk measured the same as my wrist, it didn’t exactly require a lumberjack.  Apparently, in the wild, trees don’t grow the way the modern-day Christmas tree lots would like us to believe.  After HOURS of scouring the woods for something with symmetrical branches, we ended up with the skinniest, saddest little tree you’ve ever seen. Still…I was proud of that tree. 
 
And then there was this year.  As much fun as I had with my previous excursions, I wanted instant gratification.  Between a full-time job, a long commute, and hectic holiday travel…I wanted simplicity.  So after a LONG day of flying back from the Midwest, I managed to force Ryan into the car for a quick trip to the Christmas tree lot.  Sure, it’s not the woods (or even a tree farm) but it’s local, right?  We arrived; they were closed.  Not to worry, I said…there’s another one just a mile or so away.  Closed too.  And I started to worry…because I wanted this to be simple.  I just wanted a full-figured tree, and a mug of hot chocolate.   And that’s when I looked across the street, and I looked at Ryan.  The orange lights of Home Depot glowed like an oasis.  And in 5 minutes, we’d purchased our tree.  I even scanned the tag myself at the register.  This year, our tree offers no big story, and no big adventure.  And no charming, organic, Northwestern farm.   

But still…I’m proud of that Home Depot tree.   Someday, I’ll return to the woods, and the charming inconvenience of a wild tree.  But this year?  I look at our cop-out tree and I smile.  Because with that tree, I allowed myself the easy way out.  I opted for convenience.   I allowed myself simplicity…just not the kind you see in Norman Rockwell paintings and holiday films.  And honestly?  It’s still a real tree, and it’s a darn pretty one.  And it was very, very simple.

How about you?  A fan of trimming the tree?  Fake or real?