Monday 3 December 2012

How to Build a Christmas Tree

Ladies and Gentleberries, Happy Advent. This means I can no longer tut and scorn when you play Christmas music or prematurely put up decorations.

Oh God, she's overdone it on the footnotes this time.

Today the office across the corridor from ours went mental with the tinsel and shiny stuff. 4 trees, one a good 6-footer to boot. Tinsel everywhere, advent calendars, that freaky stretchy bunting stuff. It looks awesome, and I doubt any of them did any work this morning. Our office has a singing hamster, which still hasn't been let out of it's filing cabinet for more than a single round of Jingle Bells. We'll catch up eventually*.

Back at home after the 9-5, I live in a small house with too much furniture with a lovely but slightly eccentric Landlord. Last year we drove to the forest in out small, but lovely set of wheels, chose a Norwegian Spruce, 'cos it looked friendly, lugged it home and then didn't water it quite enough. In June we moved out, and I spent a long time picking needles out of the carpet. This year we have no wheels to get to the forest, and the bad needle-picking memories remain. Yet, somehow an artificial thing from Tesco didn't seem to be the thing for us. Chiefly, because we've absolutely nowhere to put it, but after my single foray in to the world of seasonal deforestation, I'm not feeling the plastic vibe.

So we (me and the aforementioned lovely ** Landlord) built our own.

We built a tree that suits exactly our own specifications and priorities, which I think are:

  • It's 2-dimensional, to accommodate our lack of 3-dimensional space***. 
  • Real, in that in there somewhere is something that was once a tree. 
  • Made from stuff we already had or could half-inch from the Outsides. 
  • A little bit shonky.
It looks like this.

Is the present always the present? Is the present actually the future, or the past? Unless you open the present, and then it's socks, at which point your argument is invalid.

Here's how you do it. 

Step 1: Go to a forest. 

This forest has waterfalls. This is not necessary, but is very nice if you can manage it.
We chose the Birks of Aberfeldy, a stronghold of Rabbie Burns-loving lycra-clad hill runners.  It's a good forest, but please don't tell them that it was the one we went to, because of Step Two. 

Step 2: Steal a tree. 

Try not to look too pleased with yourself. Ecological terrorism is not funny.

Instead, go for the ninja/pirate look and no-one will notice the stolen tree you are carrying. 


Step 3: Return from the forest, saw up your ill-gotten tree in to hire-car-sized chunks and take it home. The woodsaw thingimy on a Swiss Army knife is really rather good. Let your sticks dry out a little.

Step 4: Line up sticks. Do not be tempted to Pick Up Sticks, that is another game. Aim for Artfully Asymmetrical. Lay some fairly butch shiny ribbon over these sticks to form the trunk of your tree. With an old freebie newspaper at hand to avoid making holes in the laminate floor, use a hammer to bash some tacks through the ribbon in to the sticks. Add some glue as well for good measure. Belt and braces time.

Art.

Step 5: Hang it on the wall. This is hanging from a screw that was already there, in a clever effort-saving fashion. Some of the weight is being taken on the ribbon down the middle, and some by the smaller ribbon looped around the end of each stick.

Step 6: Add drawing pins. At random. Try to add them to the tree-thing you are making. Pin the Thing, do not pin your friends. No Stabbin'.

There are more pins behind holding the silver ribbon still.
Step 7: Add shinies! First you may need to wrestle with the lights in that traditional untangling ceremony that is as much a part of Christmas as overeating and watching out for Jesus****.

A warning to first-time Landlords everywhere. Think about your clothing/wallpaper co-ordination. 


Step 8: Add more shinies. You thought that was Step 7, don't be so silly. Embrace the wonky. There is plenty of room more more shiny stuff. Cut a pot shape out of the amazon.co.uk packaging that arrived today and affix to the end of the ribbon with anything sticky you have to hand. This is finishing touches time. Also add presents.

Ta-Daaaa! All done. Bring on the sherry.
So there we have it, our very own sort-off Christmas tree. In eight steps of varying complexity. Blogging about your experiences along the way, and how they make you feel, is not compulsory but does round off the whole emotional experience rather nicely.

Happy Christmas!

Still to come in this unusually jovial series, before I get grumpy and release the Bah Humbugs*****, How To Make Your Own Christmas Jumper From Only The Shapes You Already Know How To Crochet******.

Callanish.



*In our own special way. I'm new, so I don't know how we do Christmas yet, and am only allowed to rock the boat a little bit.

** Also bonkers.

***We're quite shallow people, really.

****Always behind the sofa, unless that's where you look first.

*****Like those stripy minty sweeties, but also quite like sheep. I'll draw you a picture sometime. Strangely tasty.

******Title is still at the draft stage. 

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