just between you and
me-I haven't been happy with Christmas. My anxiety started back in late November
when the onslaught of holiday advertising began. Buy jewelry, get a breast augmentation,
go shopping-spend, buy, spend, buy. I was less than excited.
Then, on my
way home from work, I heard an NPR story about the growing popularity of inverted
Christmas trees. As I listened to the "holiday tree expert" emphasize
the novelty of it-you wouldn't invert your main tree, he said, more likely a smaller
second-I laughed out loud.
Years ago, my grandparents had a Christmas tree
that hung from the ceiling-our main tree, even-we were daring. Innovators. Ahead
of our time. Actually, if you want the truth, the tree just wouldn't stand on
its own. We had a contest that year to see which one of my uncles could bring
home the ugliest one. Uncle Pat, the youngest of the brothers, cried when he saw
it. I remember being confused and fascinated by the crooked mess of branches and
all the commotion.
I knew I had to do it. Hours later, my roommate and I
were scheming: where could we hang it? How would we hoist it up? How the heck
do we water it? We traded thoughtful, devious glances.
In the next week,
I told as many people as I could. Most were too caught off guard to comment, few
had clear ideas for how to get water up there.
The Internet offered little
insight-though I did discover that the upside down tree dates back to 12th century
Europe where it was thought to represent the Holy Trinity
and that many
modern-day people are deeply offended at the thought of a star pointing toward
the ground. No matter
We had our tree raising on December 7th. We
set up a rustic pulley. Screw eyes in the stump stabilized the fat rope leading
up and over an exposed ceiling beam. We secured the tree with 30 feet of rope
(this thing isn't going to fall!) and attempted to use a cut-open plastic jug
sealed with caulk as a water receptacle. As I watched water cascade down the tree
and onto the floor, I thought back to the NPR story. It only mentioned artificial
Yet, fully decorated, star dangling two feet off the ground, bows
cascading from the stump toward the branches, it is an impressive sight.
in the morning, I sleepily turn the corner and forget there is a tree hanging
in my dining room. I almost poke my eye out on this strange bundle of branches
dangling from our skylight. I look up
and giggle like a little girl.