My friend told me that they went out to a Christmas tree farm and cut down their tree. That took me back to 1968. My father was in Viet Nam. My oldest brother was at school in Ellensburg, Washington. My mother, my other brother, and I went out into the woods around DuPont, Washington and cut down our Chrsitmas tree for that year.
I remember that day. We took out an ax and a wheelbarrow and went out into the woods. We saw a deer. We came back and had hot chocolate. Forty-two years ago, and I childhood memory that I will always cherish.
Another memory I have is of my mother. She wanted to be an artist. In later years, she would do many paintings -- many of which hung in our home when I was in high school. In my younger years she would do a Christmas picture on our front window. This one is from 1961, at our home at 49 Xenia Street on Staten Island.
It wasn't so much that my mother got tired of doing these paintings in the window, rather it was that front windows stopped being big enough to do paintings in.
Memories of Christmas past. May there be as many good memories in the future.
Merry Christmas to you all.
Merry Christmas Matt and Fay, and everyone! :X Thanks for the walk down memory lane. Your mom's paintings are wonderful!
ReplyDeleteThe Christmas of 1967, my family lived in Prescott, Arizona. Oh, did it snow! The drifts carried it to the top of our front door, and my dad had to tunnel out. In those days, he drove a tow truck, and the snow covered it and our Chevy pick up truck.
My mom and dad had three kids cooped up in the house, and no Christmas. Mom put on her creative hat; she unpacked the Christmas boxes, and decorated a pole lamp in our living room. She wrapped up things from around the house; a pair of socks, a saucepan, a roll of TP. The "tree" was surrounded by "presents"!
They finally undug us enough to get a tree and presents on Christmas Eve, but I will always remember how my folks made Christmas so much fun in '67.
Lady Red, that is a Christmas of which fine meorties are made. Thank you for sharing the story.
ReplyDeleteWe lived on Staten Island too! Well...Ft. Wadsworth anyway. My mother also painted the windows back then. I have a wonderful picture of it. I loved that tree with all the tinsel. We'd start out hanging it one strand at a time and it would devolve into throwing bunches :-)
ReplyDeleteFay is a fabulous cook. I haven't made a single recipe of hers that we didn't love.
As small children, nothing taught us the art of patience more than hanging those silver icicles, one untangled strand at a time. ARGHHH!
ReplyDeleteI haven't put that infernal stuff on a Christmas tree since I left home at 17. Never will, either! :-o