Heather Webber’s Lucy Valentine Novels.
If you’ve read my latest adventure (Deeply, Desperately—don’t be fooled by the sunshiny summery cover—the book takes place in December), you already know my favorite time of year is Christmastime. In my opinion there is no such thing as having too many lights or ornaments or garland or even those giant inflatables (much to my grandmother Dovie’s dismay). My little beach cottage always looks like it could fit right in on the National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation backlot—and I love every extension cord of it.
One Valentine family tradition is to have a live tree, the more woebegone the better. Crooked? Not a problem. Bare-branched? Just more space to hang dangling ornaments. Tiny? No big deal. We always choose trees with character, then plant them on Dovie’s property as soon as the ground thaws.
I’d never dare to get an artificial tree, or (gasp) a cut tree. I may as well just cut my branch off the family tree and put it through the wood chipper. My mother and Dovie don’t go to great lengths every year (their arrest records speak for themselves) to express just how they feel about glorious old trees being cut down and displayed on Boston Common for the sake of oohing and ahhing for a few weeks.
I’d never tell them, but I think a fake tree holds a lot of appeal. No muss, no fuss. Some even come pre-lit--no tangled lights to deal with. Sounds like a good deal to me. Plus, I can keep it in the house for weeks and weeks without having to worry about losing pine needles, sticky sap or watering. Though I’d still have to worry about Grendel using the tree as a scratching post…
But for now, I’ll keep my little Charlie Brown trees, and as the December sales start I’ll be looking for deals on extension cords…and more inflatables.
Tell me, if you celebrate Christmas, do you have a real tree or a fake one? White lights or colored?