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Oh Christmas tree, oh Christmas tree!

December 12, 2008

I now have my Christmas tree. Here it is…

I was listening to Christmas music while doing this, I think you can tell

I was listening to Christmas music while doing this, I think you can tell

Do you like it? I’ve realised that choosing a Christmas tree is much like choosing an animal from a rescue centre. Though before you alert the RSPCA, I am not being entirely literal – a Christmas tree needs a lot less care and attention than a puppy or a kitten but as I am allowed neither of these, I shall make do with a tree.

Wednesday felt like as good a day as any to pick a tree so I made my way to The Secret Garden Centre in Crystal Palace – tucked away behind Sainsburys. The staff there are really friendly and let me dilly dally over Christmas trees for more than half an hour.

I knew what I was looking for – I wanted a tree that looked in need of a little love but not so far gone that it was hopeless (I don’t want the guilt). I didn’t want a tree that everyone would pick but nor did I want the one that no one would pick. As I danced around them, I also had to embrace a few for two reasons: a) I needed to be able to carry it home alone and b) if it was too prickly, I would be hurt.

Am I starting to sound like Goldilocks and her porridge? She wasn’t fussy – she just knew what she wanted and that’s no bad thing.

I finally settled on this tree and then left it on the cold landing for a few hours. I am not a bad mother – I was told that this was the best way to introduce the tree to the warmth of the home which I guess, is the equivalent of letting a new puppy curl up on a blanket that smells like its mum…

But now my tree is happy in the living room adorned with my random selection of decorations and I’m waiting for the first present to put underneath it.

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