GAIL WHITE Do Christmas trees put you at the end of your rope?

Oh, Christmas tree, Oh Christmas tree ...
Around our house, it's more like Oh, @#* & amp;^$ Christmas tree!
It was so easy when I was a child. The tree just seemed to arrive and stand straight and tall in its stand.
My first experience with the challenges of Christmas trees was in college.
My roommate, Sonya, came bustling into our apartment one Sunday afternoon.
"My dad was pruning in the yard and he cut down a Christmas tree for us," she said excitedly.
Delighted with the prospect of a tree my other roommate, Traci, and I hurried outside. We stopped in our tracks just outside the door.
"That's not a Christmas tree," Traci whispered to me.
"It's a bush," I whispered back.
Actually, it was three bushes, 5 or 6 feet tall. They were indeed evergreen, but their foliage was more of a leafy texture, not pine.
Sonya stood proudly holding the three bushes together. Not wanting to hurt her feelings, Traci and I smiled.
"Well, look at that," Traci said.
"I'll go get some rope," I added brightly. "We'll tie them together."
Can do
That's exactly what we did. And since the three trunks would not fit in a tree stand, we filled a coffee can with water and stuck them in it. The tree, of course, could not stand, so we rested it against the wall. Because it was actually not a tree but a bush, it lay flat against the wall.
Traci and I grew accustom to the bushy look. We all were very proud of our ingenuity and cleverness.
Our pride was injured, however, the first time my parents came to visit. They laughed so hard I was concerned for their health.
My dad still laughs about it. "Remember the year you had the bush slapped up against the wall?" he says, chuckling.
The next year, Traci and I decided to take matters into our own hands before Sonya's dad decided to prune the yard again.
We set out on a Saturday afternoon to find the perfect Christmas tree. It wasn't long before we found it. I remember it cost $35. That was a lot of money for a couple of college students, but we felt our pride was worth it.
Hoisting the tree into our living room, we soon realized how wonderful the coffee can had been the year before. No matter how hard we tried, our perfect Christmas tree would not stay up in the stand.
My brother showed up as we were picking the tree off the floor for the umpteenth time. Once again, we needed the rope. Jonathan held the tree as Traci and I tied it to the wall.
Since then, tying the tree to the wall has become as much a tradition for me as the tree itself.
On the same page
When I married, I realized that Pat's tree experience was much the same as mine as a child. The tree just seemed to appear in his house as well; therefore, he had no idea how to make one stand either.
One year, we had a particularly difficult time getting the tree in the stand. I have him on video, with a possessed look in his eyes, sawing the trunk of the tree in the living room. As I complained about the mess, he muttered obscenities to himself with each slice of the saw.
A few years later, we felt we had overcome our need to use rope. The tree stood straight and tall -- for a day.
I was in the kitchen when I heard a rustling in the room. I arrived on the scene just in time to see my 2-year-old running for his life to escape the falling tree. I never did find out if he was simply pulling on a bulb or actually trying to climb the trunk.
The cat brought the tree down another year. That's the year I decided I was no longer going to buy breakable bulbs. The expense was becoming too great.
We put the tree up this week. Honestly it went in the stand and stood on its own so fast I was dazzled.
"I think we've finally conquered the tree thing," I told my husband. He proudly agreed.
But as we sat watching television that evening, the tree began slowing tilting.
Our rope days are not over.
gwhite@vindy.com