The Humor of the Christmas Season: My Experience

My favorite funny Christmas memory took place some three decades ago. At the time my father and I were engaged in agriculture, and I was blessed with the opportunity to cut Christmas trees from our own property. Red cedars grew in abundance on one of the farms, and various sizes were always available for any family member that wanted a freshly cut Christmas tree. One year, the outcome of this expedition took a rather interesting, odd, and humorous twist.

It was a crisp, clear morning the Friday after Thanksgiving. I had drafted one of my cousins to assist me. We loaded the truck with gloves, chain saws, gas cans, tie down ropes, and headed out to cut five Christmas trees. The felling of the trees went rather well. The first tree did take a different path than expected on its way to the ground, and I was able to scurry out of the way in the nick of time. From that point on, my cousin was banned from chain saw operation. We soon had a truck load of fresh cut Christmas trees, dutifully and carefully loaded and secured in the truck.

Back home, we first set up my aunt's 8' tree in her living room. (The normal routine was to not only provide, but to set the Christmas tree up in the tree stand and have it "decoration ready".) She was pleased, so off to the next delivery. Two more trees were delivered and placed in stands, and I was feeling pretty good about the way this day was proceeding. So far no disasters during the deliveries, no breakage to any household items, and no Christmas trees had toppled from their stands.

Next was my dad's house. He greeted me at the door with a huge grin on his face. "You better call your aunt, son" was all he said. (No cell phones yet: this was in the days of land lines only.) I asked what was wrong. He broke out laughing, and said "Just call her. Or better yet, just go back to her house. " Well, I figured I better go, so off I went.

My aunt met me at the door. "Thanks for the beautiful tree, Major. However, there is a problem. Come on in." I learned something that day. The human olfactory senses are not capable of detecting the scent markings of wild predators on a red cedar tree out in the field, when it's a 35 degree day with a slight breeze. However, once a tree is brought into a warm, weather tight house with an ambient temperature of 70 degrees, those scent markings left by a territorial fox become quite noticeable, even to us humans. Did that tree ever stink! The pungent odor left by Mr. Fox was quickly filling her house. I looked at her, she looked at me, and we both broke out in gut busting guffaws of laughter. Dad had followed me over, and joined in the frivolity.

Next time you cut your own Christmas tree, you might want to submit the tree trunk to a quick 'scent test' before you fell that particular Christmas tree.