The first Christmas song I ever remember learning is O, Christmas Tree. We were living in New York, which means I was less than five. My preschool (?) was doing a Christmas concert and this was one of our songs. I was most excited for my mother to get there, and was concerned she wouldn't make it. (editorial note ~ my mother had never missed something like this, nor did she ever miss an event of any kind when she said she'd be in attendance, so it wasn't about her attendance track record!) I remember really wanting her to hear us sing this song. At one point, I peeked around the door and down the hallway and there she was! She had made it, and was going to get to hear us sing O, Christmas Tree. It was very exciting. Forty years later, I remember it.
The tree has been important ever since. The only year I haven't had a tree of some kind was my Christmas/Yule in Worcester. I moved right before Thanksgiving; had Thanksgiving in the Basement; had barely unpacked, when it was time to head to the Lovely Cats' for the holiday. Other than that, every single year, there has been a tree. Maybe small. A handful of times, artificial. But the tree is there. 43 out of 44 years.
Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.
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