Christmas Trees
We had lined both side of our driveway
with a variety of pine trees,
what we called evergreens,
each a different size,
the tallest by the road.
Before mid-November,
my Dad would take me
to where he had spotted
a good tree, a place
with no houses near,
in his travels to the bars,
the beer gartens,
he frequented around the county
to whet his whistle.
A good tree was about five feet tall,
no wide and not thin.
We'd dig up the tree,
keeping a big root ball,
place it in a metal wash tub,
which was about 2' in diameter
and a foot deep,
carry the tub
back to the car
and set it in the trunk.
We kept the tree outside
until a week before Christmas,
unless it got too cold,
which it did most winters,
and then we'd put it in the celler
by a window.
We'd bring the evergreen up
into the living room,
still in its tub,
center it on one wall,
(the recliner squeezed into a bedroom)
and my sisters would decorate the tree.
After the holidays, we took it
back down to the basement
where I watered it every week
until spring.
Dad and I would lug the tree out,
each with a hand on the tub's handles
and one underneath.
We'd plant it next in line
along the driveway,
moving toward the house,
making our history that way.
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