Fake is for the birds...oh wait.

I received an email last night (you know the kind that asks you all sorts of personal questions, you fill it out, pass it on and wait to hear everyone else's responses? I do have to admit I love those things...must be the "Nosy Nellie" in me...Thanks Nicki) that asked the question, "Real tree or artificial?" It reminded me of when I was "married with no kids" and my mother and sister were into the fake trees. I had no kids to impress and being ahead of my time in the green movement, I thought I would give it a try. So the Big Guy and I put up the Christmas tree and he promptly left for a business trip. I was left to decorate the "tree" and it just wasn't working for me...no smells, no pile of needles digging into my bare feet as I walked by and no bloody knuckles when I hung the lights. If that wasn't bad enough the dang tree would not stay upright in the stand. So being the industrious gal that I was (I was a terror on the bobcat and could whiz any power tool with the best of them) I decided to have a look around the garage, but all I could find was a dry bag of cement and a few rakes. So I did what anyone would do, I went inside and opened a bottle of wine. Rigged up with a little liquid gold I ventured back into the garage and mixed myself up a bucket of cement and plastered that dang tree right into the stand. So the answer to that email question, "Real of Fake?" Mine is so real I will be picking pine needles out of my feet (and the back of my hair) for weeks.