Christmas About two months ago, my mother wondered if it might be worth buying an artificial christmas tree. I think my silence said everying. One of the highlights of every christmas is buying the tree. We go to the same flower shop to buy the spruce, and each year they never let us down. If ever someone had engendered customer loyalty. Even though we only ever see this shop once a year, the seller remembers us, remembers the type of tree we like and magically it only ever takes moments before he gives us the perfect one. More often than not, the truck has just arrived and he takes us directly there, selecting a many branched affair from the back, snow still flying off from the mountain were it was standing just that morning. Is £25 good value? The fun part, the bit I love, is getting it home.

We don't drive, so the only thing for it is to carry the tree shoulder to shoulder through the suburbs of Liverpool. The reactions are always the same. People stop on the other side of the road to watch. Drivers passing by sometimes honk their horns. Others just look at us as if they've never seen a Christmas tree before. This year we went the scenic route through the park, so we had to dodge the joggers and people playing football (yes, even in this weather).

So now, there it sits in the living room. I wasn't feeling too christmassy before. I do now.

No comments:

Post a comment