The Smell of Pine

Last Christmas, I was living in a hotel in Germany and did not decorate. This Christmas, Bob will be home after 18 months deployed and I want the house to look awesome.

So, I went into our crawl space in the basement (because we live on a lake the basement is only 4 feet high, something to do with the water table) and pulled out the decorations. I stood up prematurely and took out a chunk of skull. I also burned my back on a light bulb. The crawlspace is dangerous.

The decorations were put away in a twisted jumble, something I’m sure Bob did. The lights, angel hair, garland, and pinecones were all bunched in a mess. It took me two hours to sort it all out. By this time, I had decided to use all natural real pine in my decorations and buy a real tree.

I went to a tree lot and bought garland and huge bunches of pine. I told them I would be back for a tree in a couple of days.

I put the garland up around my staircase on the rail. As I was tying it to the rail, one end fell and scattered pine needles all over. It swung precariously close to a nice lamp.

I next worked on making a beautiful wreath. By the time it was done, almost two hours later, I had sticky sap all over my fingers and nails. Then, somehow the sap got on the bottom of my shoes and pine needles stuck to it and I trailed more needles through the house.

When I finished with the wreath, I still had a pile of pine that was a couple feet high. I decided to burn some in my fireplace. It went up like a rocket. I was afraid that it would set the pine atop the mantel ablaze. So, I moved the pine to a corner, where I look at it for decorating inspiration.

I offered some of the excess pine to mom, but she told me I was an idiot to buy pine when she lives on 40 acres of pined woods. Maybe the little farmer Allen, who takes anything, will want it.

I got the broom outof the garage and swept up the needles, I was afraid they’d clog my vacuum because they were so long. The needles stuck in the broom strands, but would not go in the dustpan. At this point, I wanted to kill someone. So, I cranked the Christmas music to convince myself of the joy of the season.

After two days of working with real pine, I pictured the tree coming into the house. I would have to haul it in myself, adjust it into the stand, put the lights on—all things that lead to more pine needles and sap in the house. With that vision in my head, I crawled into the basement and hauled up the artificial tree. And then I lit a pine candle. Nothing like the smell of pine.