Those Aren't Real
By Andrea Peck
I have a topic that I've been avoiding. Dodging, really. It's not a portion of an idea or a droning insect; it's a real thing, a semi-garden thing.
The situation is this: I have a fake tree in my yard.
There. It's out. My secret is no longer. If you know me and drive by my yard, you may have noticed that cute pine-type tree sitting amongst the carpet vine. What you may not know is that tree is as fake as they come.
Worse yet, I love it. My whole family loves it. Who wouldn't love it? It's green all year round and requires no water or care!
Let me explain how we came upon this easy-care pine. You see, one day my son and daughter and I (this was almost two years ago) were walking on the street and from afar we saw the possibility of street gold. In other words: a free pile. We gathered momentum and ran up towards that pile in haste. I don't tell the kids, but I sometimes get overly exaggerated in my excitement about these free piles just so that they will run up steep hills and tire themselves out. Strenuous exercise is healthy. So is that couple of hours that I get to be by myself after they go to bed. Anyway, we took off full-tilt with the giddiness that only a free pile can stir up. Slowly we came across a magical synthetic Christmas tree. It was forlorn in its dilapidated cardboard box.
My son, the empathetic one, thought we'd better take it home. I could see what he meant. It looked in need of a stable environment.
We lugged it home and after that brief sprint, the endorphins must have been kicking in because I told the kids we should just stick it in the front yard. I can't remember the details, but I know that they were all for it. That's the great thing about fit, well-rested kids – they will go along with anything.
I guess I should say that the story gets mildly crazier. I guess the fact that it has been there for almost two years is strange enough. Especially considering that we have not had anyone really question its location. No, the strangest thing is how I discovered that I married the right person.
Every Christmas, my husband puts up with me decorating the ficus or some other non-traditional tree. One year we killed a lemon tree by bringing it in for too long and forgetting to bring it outside and properly plant it. Last Christmas he suggested we get a cut tree. I knew what he meant because I went through this with my brother years ago when my mom and I had purchased a $5.00 “Charlie Brown” tree the day Santa was supposed to deliver. My brother did not like that twig of a tree. He wordlessly went out and bought the real deal and we had two trees that year.
So, when my husband suggested a real-deal tree, I had a bit of dejavu.
Nevertheless, I had an idea and I was not going to be deterred. I suggested we bring in the fake tree and save ourselves some money.
Around the holidays, money is a charmed word. Mention it and you may get your wish. I think I probably twisted my head like a dog when it hears a weird sound because I just could not believe that he agreed with me. I wondered if the term ‘soul-mate' had some basis in reality as we brought that tree inside. You would think I would end there, but, the story gets even loonier: that tree elicited so many compliments.
So many.
And each time, I had to challenge my luck by asking if the tree rang any bells. I got no answers other than dropped jaws which I consider a compliment in the final analysis.
Since then, I have seen kindred spirits. In fact, it was not too long ago that my kids and I went to a yard sale and I was able to ask the owner of the home about the beautiful goldenrod flowers that bloomed from his giant palm.
I told him that I did not know that those trees bloomed.
He leaned in slyly and said, “Look a little closer.”