Turkeys and Trees

   All of what we once erroneously considered traditions have gone by the  boards over the years, the latest to succumb being the tradition associated with the Christmas Tree.  Our first tree, in our Schaghticoke apartment, was perhaps the least spectacular. I have a vivid memory of walking up the two flights of outside stairs with my mother, who was helping my pregnant self carry groceries, and showing her the tree, and thinking it was not quite as impressive as its predecessors in her living room.   It was tall, though, and full, probably a pine.  It was in the corner of our living room, and so did not display as well as the trees that followed, 46 of them, which were always in front of the living room window.  All of our trees were tall, some fuller than others, and following in the tradition of the fore running  Thanksgiving turkeys, each considered to be spectacular in its own right.  I suppose if I really tried I could locate pictures of each and every tree, though that could be a lengthy and painstaking effort.  Such pictures may or may not substantiate their claim of being the best tree ever, but each did have its moment of glory.
    But change has come to our Christmas Tree tradition, at its own inexorable pace.  We can no longer  afford to relinquish our rather limited space to accommodate a tree of any significant size.  I forced myself to to overcome my long-standing aversion to artificial trees, knowing it was based on those creations of long ago-----the ugly, malformed sprigs of green plastic adhered  to stubby brown branches, the shiny silver celluloid tree, the pink frothy one.  So I went to Lowe's and looked at their displays.  The large trees were quite beautiful, but I didn't want large.  The smaller ones were less attractive, and it was challenging to try to match the display model with the stacks of boxed-up trees.  Which was which, and what kind of stand came with each, and how tall was the tree when in the stand.  I finally picked one out and put it in my cart, a pre-lighted tree, figuring  with all that shiny brightness, how could I go wrong.  But inexplicably, as I wheeled the cart toward checkout intending to buy the tree, I swapped it out for a living Norfolk Pine which was in the front of the store next to the cashiers.
    So our 48th Christmas Tree is a three-foot-tall potted Norfolk Pine, looking as such pines do, more tropical than Christmassy.  It's front and center, in our window, with an angel on top,  but I don't know if it will ever be camera-ready.