It turns out I’m not terribly good at documenting Christmas festivities. At least not this year. I expect this is for one of two reasons: The still-present childhood delight of Christmas Eve — gathering with the family, eating too much sugar, opening presents — distracted me […]
I believe in the power of letters. Sending them, receiving them, affixing them with kitschy postage stamps, and trekking along neighborhood sidewalks to drop them off in those metal blue boxes, always somehow arriving past the last pickup time of the day. This is a practice that […]
Once upon a time, there lived an evergreen tree. He grew up on a farm beside lots of friends of similar stature. They grew big and tall until one day a team of people with chainsaws came along and chopped the no-longer-so-little fellows down. For our friendly hero, this startling development only became more alarming when he was wrapped in twine, stacked into a rather large covered truck and hit the open road for Denver, Colorado.
When next he saw the light of day, our tree was being unloaded into a semi-covered pen at a home repair store. Before long, families and small children started filtering by his new little section of the world. They would prop him upright, and squeeze his needled limbs. Then the world would spin around him as the family discussed the merits of every bit of his circumference. Still feeling ever so slightly dizzy, our hero was inevitably placed back in the jumble of his fellow trees, and the family moved on to choose a different festive addition to their holiday home.
Several weeks went by and this routine continued on. Trees he had been carted along with to the store steadily were purchased and taken away. They were replaced with little wooden reindeer and snowmen. Crowds began to dwindle and our little tree started to wonder what would become of him.