NEW YEARS IN GRAVENHURST -

CHRISTMAS PASSES SO FAST - I'M TRYING TO HANG ON A LITTLE LONGER - TO JUSTIFY ALL THE PREPARATIONS

There was one year, when the lads were much younger, when we really needed the charm of the Christmas tree to extend past the festive season. In fact, (it was a polyester tree) we went right through New Years, Ground Hog Day, Robbie Burns, Valentines, St. Patricks and it finally came down on Easter Monday. Short of haggis hanging from the tree, each of the occasions had appropriate tree attire. I don't know what was bugging us that particular year, but you know, that tree made us feel good, and celebratory, by its green bushy presence. Now here's what happened in order for this tree to last this long. I had to beg. Thus, I obviously needed it more than any one else. As a daily writer, I have all kinds of motivational needs…..objects that, for one reason or another, inspire me. It can get a little weird, especially with some of the sculptures I purchase, that generate my own creative enterprise. Don't know why, just need them.

Suzanne is accountant-minded. She's a teacher, a knitter, sewer, quilt repairer, blanket re-binder, a gardener and about as persnickety an individual as you can find on the planet. She can not abide stale dated advertisements, and cringes at any signboard anywhere, that has expired, and is still mistakenly posted. She does not believe in tardiness in such cases; just that there must be general malaise, on their part, tidying up after an event. She'll point them out to me, whether it is a banner for an antique show, that was held two weeks previous, or a billboard that is only days outdated. Much as if I'm supposed to stop the car, jump out, and rip the darn thing from its mounts. So getting back to the Christmas tree. I can't believe she tolerated that tree being up until Easter. It must have drove her nuts, to wake up every morning, and see that Christmas…..still, wasn't quite done yet. In retrospect, she would acknowledge that period, and that extended holiday season, without making any comment whatsoever, about her sheer joy having a St. Valentines Day tree, and a St. Patrick's version as well. Easter bunnies on a Christmas tree. Gads.

So last night, thinking her in a good humor, I suggested that it would be nice to keep the newest polyester tree up an extra week, following New Years. Ya know, I've had all kinds of looks from this lady, over the past two and a half decades, but this was a glare showing more contempt than I'd ever seen. Even when she commanded me to sleep on the porch for having to many schnapps. It was like I'd asked if I could bring the hulk of the titanic into the livingroom. Geez, it was just the wrong time, wrong mood, and obviously there was a gravy issue in the kitchen. While I thought I was going to sneak this through, without a lot of fuss, a little inconsistency with the gravy sunk my battleship. What she knows of me, is that I sneak something small past, that seems quite minor and inconsequential, and then it kind of blossoms into something monstrous….apparently like extending Christmas time beyond its official designation.

Suzanne has had to put up with a lot of my excesses in the past, and although this may not seem like a big deal…..to have an extra week with my expensive, store-bought shrubbery, it's the cumulative thing you see. She remembers stuff like, telling her I'd be right home from the tavern, and then showing up three days later with wet hockey equipment, someone else's jacket, and the wrong car. So I don't really expect her to give me much of a break, even though I've been relatively good for the past decade…..in terms of not drinking to excess, running amuck with my former hockey and fishing chums (all banned now from the property), and hauling home stuff from the landfill site for refurbishing.

She didn't offer anything definitive but I'm sure with some coaxing, I can buy a few extra days for the tree. Years earlier, I was able to work the wee lads, to throw on some "please mom, pretty please, can we mom, can we," pleading, but now they just say, in passing, "dad, keep us out of it. We're not getting mom mad at us." So I'm kind of left to Suzanne's mercy, and I'm pretty sure she'll demand some trade-offs. We're like big league corporations, the way we negotiate concessions from each other, for one's favor, at the other's counter-proposal. I guess if I have to participate in its on-schedule dismantling this year, I'll do so with that trademark grumbling, I'm known for, here in the neighborhood, jam the sucker in the box, in protest, and get on with the important domestic stuff……like tidying-up my newspapers, and straightening my piles of books. The tree is a diversion, you see, because as long as it's up, she forgets about the askew books and my daily newspapers.

Look, she's a wonderful partner, and means well all the time. I'm certainly not a textbook slob….although my mother thought so, and I have many idiosyncrasies myself. I can not stand a crooked picture, and Suzanne couldn't care less about this. I could have everything else collapsed on top of itself, but by God, there shall be no crooked painting at Birch Hollow. We deserve each other I think. There are two lucky people out there, and they don't even know it.