Monday, December 12, 2005

Crucible Christmas

Fired up the old pick-em-up truck around dusk on Saturday, loaded up the boy and raced the half-mile or so down to the Christmas tree lot. There were still lots of trees, so we got to appreciate the maziness of it, more so from his height I'm sure. The Noble spruces and Douglas firs were interesting, but he stopped in his tracks when he found the flokking tent with white, pink, and blue flokked trees standing around. Like me as a child he wanted a flokked one, but like my mom's boyfriend in 1974 I told him no, natural is better. We selected a friendly looking ~6' tall Noble and had it loaded in short order. The boy convinced me that it couldn't possibly be time to leave the lot yet, so we took another tour. He performed a public service by advising everybody in a sing-song voice to "Loooook out!" as they rounded blind corners in the pine maze. I had told him the same during tour 1. When he got fascinated with the power saw I decided that the time for departure had arrived. The boy still did not agree with that assessment and proceeded to throw a classic fit, arching his back to make carseat insertion a challenge, especially with those screams that could indeed curdle blood. He had some clodhoppers on which he kicked the Christmas out of the dashboard with (he gets to ride up front in the pick-up, usually a fun thing). The tree stands in our living room untrimmed; the devil loves details.

Went to the Crucible holiday sale Sunday. Still want to take the bike frame building class there; maybe someday. They had Santa flying from one end of the old warehouse to the other, flames shooting 10+ feet out the back of his sled, suspended from a track. All his (human) deer's antlers also shot fire. The boy was scared and ended up hiding his head under a blanket. The art was exceptional and the people very friendly and knowledgeable. We bought a photo album with a thick steel & leather cover, as well as a lamp that Maira had made from a gourd and added colored glass marbles and stuff to let the light out. Got in trouble for subconsciously flirting with the custom dog collar woman but such is life.


Anonymous said...

The road to hell is paved with unbought stuffed dogs and you certainly have stuffed the dog.

Zahrala said...

Sometimes when I read your posts, I can hear your voice in my head and feel your presence close by. I love checking the site every morning for new goodies!

Fourth Musketeer said...

Funny you should refer to the road to hell quote (The Sun Also Rises), I'm reading Hemmingway's Selected Letters 1917-1961 and sense that I must be near the origin of the canine taxidermy reference. I am sure you know that there is more than one way to stuff a dog.

Hmmm, the second person to refer to the phenomenon of hearing the posts. Vonnegut advises in "Fates Worse Than Death" that the author should always write for an audience of one, and Mr. Schmidt in 5th grade told us we should write personal letter using the same language we use in conversation, to give that sense of voice. What you are hearing is probably just a product of how much I ramble on in person, but thank you.