The Holiday Dictator


Even though I can't do much with limited mobility, I do love the holidays.  I call in every means of assistance possible–family, friends, Sandie–to get the house ready.  I needed to let go of my tendency to direct the size tree, décor placement and timing of EVERYTHING.

It was the time of year for my traditional (big deal–two years) holiday scoot to pick out a Christmas tree.  Since we have young children in the house this year, I vowed to be less of a dictator.  But, I wanted to at least pick out the tree without input*.  I'm known for finding a tree more suitable for the White House but this year, I restrained myself, going for one under ten feet.

The Sunday after Thanksgiving dawned beautiful and sunny.  It boded well for a scoot.  Unfortunately, it was also cold and windy.  After donning ten pounds of winter apparel, I left, waving goodbye to Earl, Heidi, Michael, Sarah, and Kyle.  They stayed inside and warm, collectively thinking I was just plain nuts to venture out.

 It's embarrassing to complain about the sun here in the rainy Northwest.  But the winter sun was so low in the sky, it was directly in my face the whole way there.  Even with sunglasses, I had to shield the glare with my hand.  That wouldn't have been a problem, except that I looked as though I was signalling for help from the oncoming car.  After a couple of  "I'm OK. No, thanks", I decided it was better to drop my hands and take a different route.

My usual Christmas tree lot had become part of a big construction zone.  The family tree farm had to temporarily relocate.  Fortunately, a nearby church loaned them a space in the parking lot.

After choosing and paying for the tree, I headed home.  Through the sunglare, I could distinguish a couple out walking their dog.  Being a conscientious sidewalk sharer, I scooted to the side and slowed down to let them pass.  When encountering a motorized scooter, most dogs go about their business.  Occasionally, Skeeter can spook them and I found that it's best to just keep moving straight and slow. As I passed the trio, I heard, "Hi, Aunt Tammy!"  It was my niece and nephew and Prince **. They had seen a lady on a scooter approaching and figured it had to be me.  Really, how many of us could there be?  After a brief visit, I was homeward bound. We were all freakin' freezing!  "Have fun,  It's windy and cold", Jill said.  I managed to refrain from responding in stinker mode, "Gee, that never occurred to me..."***

So like last year, I'm heading home. I get halfway there and Skeeter stops dead.  No warning–nada.  I thought this failing battery business was all behind me. But once again, I had to call Earl to come get me.  At least he wasn't on crutches this time****.  I was only a couple miles from home but the route was all up hill.  Fortunately, I was close to a church parking lot and could back into it, getting off the main road.  I parked and briefly waited in the cold wind. Everyone was right. I was nuts.  Even Skeeter prefers staying warm.

How did I get the tree home?  I didn't exactly, but the first set of holiday elves did.  Heidi and Michael took their larger vehicle prepared to load the White House tree on the car rack.

Heidi texted me from the tree lot:
OMG. U did use restraint. Tree fit in r car. On our way home.
Me:  Heh, heh.  Oh ye of little faith.
Michael brought the tree in, unwrapped it, set it up and straightened it.  Since he is my son-in-law, he enjoys 'ignore the dictator' status and I managed to keep my lip zipped like a good mother-in-law.  The truth is, Earl and I are happy to get the tree in the house, mounted on the stand, and straight without an argument.  Now we were ready for the next step—the light elf.


The lesson: It's the holidays—Let it go, Mussolini Tam.

*Previous post: A Winter's Tale
**Previous post: Walking the dog
***Previous post: Solitude is not a four-letter word
****Previous post: Back in Lake Oswego--Adventure #2




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