Carl Vertrees

When it comes to Christmas presents, I am impossible to buy for.

As most retirees, we’ve spent decades acquiring stuff. If we need it, we buy it. On the contrary, we have three teenage grandchildren whose Christmas lists are elaborate and infinite.

My list is short. I always enjoy books, because I read most evenings while dividing my attention between the current read and whatever we’ve tuned in on television.

After carving the turkey for Thanksgiving, I realized my electric carving knife isn’t working properly. No complaints. I believe it was a wedding present almost 60 years ago!

There’s also a list of things I don’t want for Christmas.

Number One is a leaf blower. They’re noisy and impractical. Why blow leaves or other yard debris off the deck, sidewalk or driveway to become someone else’s problem? My shop vacuum eliminates the problem instead of passing it on.

Number Two: I’m not opposed to snow blowers. In fact a neighbor kindly cleared our driveway for our worst snowfall last winter, but I don’t have a place to store one.

Number Three: A new wallet. Much less expensive than the blowers, but the shabby looking wallet I’ve been using for years is still holding together, its corners are suitably squished, and it’s comfortable in my hip pocket. Thanks, but no thanks.

What kind of Christmas tree do you have? Living? Fresh cut? Artificial? Having resided only in Washington, Oregon or Alaska, we belonged to the fresh-cut selectors most of our lives, going out into the forests as a family with a Forest Service permit in hand.

We made our tree expeditions early in December with another family. The highlight of the trip was stopping for pizza in Sisters after the tree mission was accomplished.

Our most memorable tree quest occurred in the early 1970s when we lived in Island City just outside of La Grande. On a very snowy Sunday we ventured into the foothills of the Elkhorn Mountains southwest of town. I climbed a tree to scope things out. When I cut the tree, its top broke as it fell, I lost my wallet in the snow, and our dog ran away. I found my wallet, and the dog came back. I don’t remember the tree.

After our daughters were independent, we gave up the forest tradition and patronized local Christmas tree lots, usually selecting a noble fir.

One year my Kiwanis Club was selling Christmas trees, raising funds for its youth projects. When the Douglas fir was delivered, we were very disappointed. It must have been 1992, the year we had snow on the ground in Redmond from Dec. 1 until March 1. Forest Service roads were not accessible, because of the abundant snow there, too. So, we lived with the Charlie Brown tree as all the tree lots sold out early.

In 2008 we made the giant leap to an artificial tree which has served us well. It also gives us the liberty to erect it as early as we desire, because we don’t have to worry about it drying out.

It’s three sections came in a large cardboard box with a luggage-type handle. It has endured well and virtually all of the lights still seem to illuminate. But never have all three sections of the tree fit back into its original package. The smallest section, the top third of the tree, rests in its own plastic garbage bag alongside the other two-thirds on a shelf in the garage.

I took advantage of balmy weather before Thanksgiving to put up most of our outdoor lights, and Ginger has addressed all of the Christmas cards awaiting personal notes. There’s still shopping to be done, and we’ll shop at local stores wherever possible, and hope you’ll do the same.

May you connect with the appropriate friends and family whether here or afar. Merry Christmas.