There is a monster in my living room. It is our Christmas tree.
Remi picked it out this year.
This makes the seventh Christmas that we have bought our tree from the Mountain Man of the Ardeche. Yes, we have our faults but we are ridiculously loyal. It seems the very least we can do for his efforts of filling up his rusted white van full of sapins de Noêl in the middle of the night and making the five hour drive so as to arrive in time for our Wednesday market. He never disappoints, neither the man nor his trees. His face is as craggy as the mountain that he comes from and is nearly covered with hair, his teeth have been worn down to daggers. But he was so pleased to see us again! He clapped his hands together and smiled. It always feels so good to be remembered, doesn’t it?
And his trees! Well, this year Remi had suggested, wisely, that we get a smaller tree as we have less space in this new apartment so we headed over to the “small” section, a bargain at only 30€ a pop. I ran to get cash while Remi selected carefully. After promises of “à l’année prochaine” and a wave, we carried it home between us. With Ben trotting at our side, I felt very much the little family out of a JCrew ad, something I highly doubt I will ever feel again.
Imagine my surprise when we brought the tree into the apartment and it fit under the ceiling with barely an inch to spare. Wasn’t this supposed to be a smaller tree? And then we opened it up and it is as skinny as a Czech supermodel. “I like it,” Remi said, clearly proud of his choice, “it is different, very Zen.” Different it most certainly is but that is also why I call it a monster. It is, poor thing, quite simply the Charlie Brown Christmas Tree…on steroids.
*For the following little epilogue, for those you that are wanting to stay in the fairy dust land of the holiday season, please feel free to skip it. I won’t blame you in the least. Ditto if you are simply too busy!*
And while vaguely on the subject of cultural differences, I had a conversation this morning while I was out on my morning walk with Ben that was odd on so many levels that it is worth repeating. I was in a great mood, the sky was blazing blue and I had my camera out, ready to take some photos. A man stopped to compliment me on Ben but I quickly realized that he had confused him with a dog that is similar in appearance but actually belongs to the Roma or Gypsy camp outside of town. This dog is very sweet and makes the rounds to the shops for attention and scraps. I said that it is surprising that he is so docile and well-trained. The man puffed up his chest and said, “Not all Gypsies are dirty you know. Where are you from?” When I replied that I was American (curious to see where this was going) he responded, “Well, that is the difference between your society and mine. Here in France we do not make such gross assumptions about people as you Americans do, where black is black and white is white.” Now, I knew that I should have stopped this exchange right away by explaining that I am not in the habit of confusing people with their dogs but I couldn’t help myself. “Excuse me, but how can you say such a thing when France remains an incredibly racist country? We are in a region where nearly 30% of the population votes for the FN (the Front National Party) which wants to sweep all of the immigrants out of the country…” I paused, stupefied and also because I realized that I was raising my voice. “This is not about racism!” he yelled, now also angry. “You see? A good conversation turned ugly,” I said with a shrug as I turned my back and continued down the street. For the record, I don’t have a problem with the Gypsies but their dogs are often aggressive as they are trained to guard the camps. Sheesh. Why is it, after so many years of living in France that it still makes me so very angry when someone makes a gross generalization about the United States? Every single time I hear “you Americans” my skin crawls. My country is so huge and holds such a wide range of religions and cultures, styles and modus operandi. Please don’t put us in a box, that is unless you are willing to wrap it up with a big bow to put it under my Monster Tree.
What an absolutely brilliant response, Rubye. Brilliant and spot on. And I could see that the more he got a rise out of me, the more he wanted to! Ah, so next time I will try your approach and I can't wait to see what happens!
I love my tree too. Took awhile but now I do. 🙂
When dealing with people such as the shop owner who say "you" anything, I actually find it enjoyable to go along with them and have a happy banter or two. Half the time people who talk this way or really interested in seeing your reaction– I think more so than wanting to offend you. So, if someone says to me you Okies are all the same, I normally respond with yes, we are aren't we and see where it goes from there. Probably some American, or two or three, have offended him in the past and so he lashes out to all Americans now. Given half a chance I bet you would find him redeemable. Perhaps not though. 🙂
Honestly, I love your tree.
Perfectly said Elizabeth. And not to worry–especially as I still owe you a more proper response to your last lengthy reply. And yes, that is why Remi chose it–anything else would have completely overtaken the room. True, 3/4s of my ornaments had to stay in the box but there is always next year! Joyeux Noêl à toi aussi!!
Clare, it looks like you have your priorities in order. There is nothing and I do mean nothing more important than time with loved ones. Wishing you a very Merry Christmas!
I Dream Of, thank you so much for your sweet response. Yes, you were perfectly right, I did have a hard time shaking it, despite its being so ridiculous. Happily, today is another day and it has been a great one so far. I have been loving all of your posts–wishing you and yours a very Happy Holidays!
Your tree is lovely – so much character and personality. The ornaments look so elegant hanging from it's branches.
I'm so sorry that your conversation with this person turned into a confrontation – the worst is that this sort of encounter tends to stick with one and color the rest of the day. Hope you've been able to let it go and that it isn't bringing a shadow to your celebrations.
Enjoy your lovely tall tree!
I love your Charlie Brown – on steroids – Christmas tree!
We have decided to skip the big tree this year & just have a mini one plus a few simple decorations. This year has been crazy busy & I'd rather spend any time I can scrounge up with loved ones 🙂
Wishing you & Remi a most wonderful Christmas!! Ben too!
~ Clare x
Apologies for my silence – I'm finally getting around to playing catch up with my favourite blogs.
Your Christmas tree, c'est parfait. I love its height and torso and the fact that you can look through the tree. It doesn't crowd the room.
As for the flâneur………Gross generalizations and ignorance breed fear and allow the masses to be manipulated……………ugly business. The fellow you met appears to have run a one sided, preconceived dialogue. The fact that you were from the USA just pushed his "on button"!
Bisous et Joyeux Noël heather, Remi and Ben.
Thanks again everyone! Who would have known that this tree would be such a hit? Remi is going to glow with pride when I tell him!
Judith, I do have one idea because oh my, you certainly don't need a puppy chewing on the Christmas tree lights!! Now this might not be feasible but what if you bought a shorter tree and put it on top of a table or stand of some sort so that it would be out of the puppers reach? My friend Frederique did that this year and it looked great. Either that or totally dose the base and bottom branches with Bitter Apple spray?
How wonderful that you were able to keep your lab for 15 years. Ben is curled up smack dab against me while I am typing–they mean so much to us don't they?