Making Room For A Skinny Christmas Tree


The drive home from Houston at the end of the workday yesterday seemed to take forever. Actually, that’s not true. It was just that I was lost in thought when I realized I was already almost through Sealy. I had planned to stop at Sonic and get a cup of ice, but somehow I missed the exit. I should have been more attentive. I have found that eating ice minimizes the risk of my being asleep at the wheel. If you’re not in the music business, being asleep at the wheel can be deadly. Consequently, I try to stay awake. Ice helps.

I said I was lost in thought, but I was actually involved in a telephone conversation. I guess I could modify that to say, “I was in a thoughtful telephone conversation”. That modification keeps my blog both factual and credible. If I’m not careful, people will think the General is right. She maintains that I write historical fiction. But, of course, we both know nothing could be farther from the truth. I may be a little off balance, but if I write it, you can take it to the bank unless, of course, it is a check.

I missed the exit because I wasn’t paying attention. I started to take a subsequent exist and go back, but I was already getting a late start, I needed to remain in forward motion. I’d get ice in Columbus. It was only about a thirty minute drive. No worries, I was good to go.

Actually, that’s not true. I don’t know if it was worry or frustration, but I learned late Wednesday that proposed legislation (not yet published) with the potential for negatively impacting my line of work was rapidly coming to fruition without an opportunity for many who would be impacted to even have a seat at the table in discussing the merits. That seems to circumvent the way the system is supposed to work, but then again it happens more often than I’d like to think possible.

If I’m not careful, I could deteriorate to making this a rant and I really don’t want to do that. Keep it positive, keep it real and keep it moving. Aren’t those marching orders that regularly serve us well? Let me fast forward and tell you that my next surprise was the realization ten to twelve minutes later that I had not passed though Sealy earlier. The sign in front of me stated, “Sealy – Next Three Exits”.

I know what you’re thinking, but you’re wrong. I am not delusional! The only negative related to the discovery is that I wasn’t as far along on my jaunt back home as I thought I was. Consequently, that error added to my perception that the ride home from Houston seemed to take forever. However, I did stop in Sealy at Sonic and get a large cup of ice.

On the Dripping Springs side of Austin, I stopped to buy more ice. I had exhausted my supply and because I was feeling exhausted, I opted to stop. Safe is better than sorry. I really did need the ice.

I don’t know. Maybe I was in a negative mood when I got home, but the General and I almost verbally got into it. That may not be true, but if I had said what I really thought rather than “Yes Ma’am”, it would have been the catalyst for WWIII.

We had eaten dinner. There was something about the way she said, “I need your help” that led me to believe I wasn’t going to like the assignment. Did I mention that my intuition is generally pretty good?

From her perspective, she wasn’t asking for much. She had purchased a skinny Christmas tree from Michaels because we didn’t have the space this year to put up the bigger tree. At the risk of confusing you, even though we didn’t have the space for the bigger tree, we set that tree up when the grandkids were here last weekend. Consequently, the skinny tree was going to go in the dinning room.

That’s where I come in. The skinny tree was bigger than it looked. I guess you could say it wasn’t skinny enough to fit. In order for it to be right, I needed to move the Grandfather clock over about four inches.

What wife in their right mind would ask their dog-tired husband to move a grandfather clock four inches so that the Christmas tree he didn’t want in the first place would look better?  I married well. She’s one in a million! That is exactly what the General wanted me to do.

It wasn’t that I couldn’t have given the clock a shove and easily made that happen. In the process it probably would have broken the spring holding the pendulum in place and I can only wager a guess concerning the three weights and what my shoving the clock would have done for that process.

As you probably can predict, I eventually did it her way, but not without trying some other options first. Maybe I am delusional! I thought my suggestion had merit. The General didn’t give it a second thought. I asked the question anyway: “Why not put the skinny tree in another room?”

She agreed for me to try it, but assured me there was not enough room where I suggested it be placed. I moved the tree and “Ripley’s Believe It Or Not”, she didn’t like it. Does that surprise anyone? Her logic was valid. “It looks like a tree that we just stuck in the corner.” Was she trying to be funny? Where did she think the tree was being placed in the dinning room? It, too, was in a corner and from my perspective, it looks like we just stuck it in the corner.

After removing the pendulum and the three weights from the clock, I carefully scooted the clock over to make more room for the skinny tree. The clock is now almost in front a picture that looked perfectly placed in the room until of course, it shared space with the Grandfather clock.

I’m sure the tree will look fine once it is decorated. The General plans to use “Norman Rockwell” Christmas decorations her mother gave her. She wanted the tree out of the flow of foot traffic (four legged foot traffic) to minimize the likelihood that an ornament would get knocked off and broken.

I can assure you that on Christmas day, after I remove the tree, I will once again disassemble the Grandfather clock and slide it back in it’s regular place and then put the clock back in working order.

Sometimes I think the General should leave well enough alone, but when I’m thinking thoughts like that, I’m dangerously close to being delusional.

All My Best!




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