…unless you maybe mean a glowing, mutated shade of green?
We like to have a small, potted live Christmas tree instead of a cut one, it just seems sad to kill a tree once a year. Then again, as was recently pointed out to me, at least the cut trees die a quick death. 2003’s Norfolk Island pine, I am sad to say, has since gone to that great forest in the sky. And 2001’s tree had a little mishap with too much Arizona sunshine on a 110 degree day.
Shown below on the left is “Newton” (yes we name the trees too) our Christmas tree for 2002, rescued from a forgotten corner of Trader Joe’s in Tucson and photographed the day after Christmas. On the right is the same tree, today. And no, I don’t know why the needles are two different lengths. I wish people would stop asking that.
For obvious reasons, Newton was excused from Christmas tree duty this year, replaced by a potted rosemary bush pruned in the shape of a tree. I keep hoping if it can just hang in there until someday when we get back to North Carolina, maybe it will make a comeback.
If it doesn’t develop superpowers and destroy the world before then, that is.
Update: Newton was released into the wild (well, the backyard) at our house on London Road in the summer of 2007 and was alive and well as of when we moved out. We figured it was time he planted his roots even if we couldn’t.
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