This child's Christmas in the 50's and 60's mean't my Dad piling us kids in the big old car to go out to a tree farm for our tree. I'll never know what he thought of it, but we young boys thought it a treat. Not so much the tree cutting and roping it to down on the roof, just the day out in Dad's car. We didn't get out much. The actual work of getting the tree felt like a chore, like any other job around the house and our big country yard. I have quaint memories of these Christmases, much like our yellowed and brittle home movies on 8mm reels in a cardboard box in my brother's attic. The holidays were merrily humming along, subdued and sedate, until my Motor City aunt and uncle became a bigger part of our lives. He was a grumpy Texan not to be messed with. She was a proponent of tough love, and could easily heap swearing scoldings on us kids; but gosh, she so often heaped love and gifts on us too. We spent a few Christmases in Detroit with them, where Nat King Cole would be crooning from the HiFi, a giant turkey filling the house with indescribable aromas, and a Christmas tree filling the living room with more ornaments and wrapped presents I'd ever seen before. She had a special little tree for us young ones, a gum drop tree I think it was called. It stood about 2' tall, and was covered in candy. My uncle patrolled the perimeter like he was on guard duty, while my aunt was forever busying herself in the kitchen. I'd always ask before I dared approach the candy tree, and always got the go ahead. Take one. Just one. As the 60's swung into the 70's things changed. Our aunt who never believed in doing anything half hearted, introduced our Mom to Christmas crafts. With nothing more than scissors, glitter and glue, our home grew smaller in space, but larger than life with more and bigger ornaments. Scarlet ribbons, shimmering green velvet, and sparkling gold flake covered every assorted size and shape of styrofoam. Balls, candy canes and wreathes made our home look like a department store display window. Even Dad got swept up with the craze. One year he cut out a sleigh, Santa and a reindeer out of 1/2" plywood, and stuck on the corresponding paper images. These sat on the front lawn to the embarrassment of his teen aged sons. None of this decorating appealed to me though. It felt over the top. But what did touch my Christmas spirit was a simpler and humbler "special effect." Dad fastened a 3 light flood lamp to a pair of criss crossed 2x4's and plunked it in the front yard every year before Christmas. A long black extension cord ran across the frozen lawn, under the snow drifts, and into the basement window to the workshop. He'd screw in 3 coloured bulbs, red, blue and green. This very basic lighting gave a very moody and magical effect on this young boy laying awake in his bed at night. It felt like having our very own aurora borealis every night throughout the Christmas season. Sometimes I'd creep out of bed to stand shivering at my window. Looking out across the glowing white snowy folds of farmland, under a black velvet sky, the stars would sparkle hard and bright. And I'd wonder, will it be a snow day tomorrow? Will the pond be ready to skate on yet?
ps I'm sorry to hear you and your neighbours might be pushed out of your homes memaquay. I hope wherever you next call home, you'll start making new happy memories for you and yours. Who knows, maybe you'll wind up with room enough for an even bigger tree?! Or maybe a towering tree growing in the yard? It'll take a good length of extension cord along with an awful lot of outdoor lights.
Or you could just flood light it. Or better yet, let the northern lights work their magic.
