Xmas tree oh xmas tree

Mae Stewart

Id been living in Fintry Housing Scheme in Dundee, with my family, for about a year, and our first Christmas in the new hoose was approaching. My mother decided she would push the boat out, and we were all to set off for the Arcade in town to get a REALLY good Christmas tree, now we had the room. We being; my wee brother Johnnnie [6] my wee sister Carol [in the tansad] and me [10]. And leading the group, of course, the lady of the house.

We duly got off the bus at Shore Terrace, and crossed the road to look at the trees that sat outside the door of the Arcade. Well there were big trees, wee trees, skinny trees and fat trees.

Then she spots it. Nudges me. Will yeh tak a look at that tree, now thats a real dinger!! The real dinger was just that. It was really really green. It had a huge trunk. It was enormous. We fell in love with it.

How much tae tak it aff yehr hands says she to the Arcade man, preparing for battle.

Oh! Well says he. Its the same price as a the rest, but yehll hae tae move it now, fir Eh canna store it fir yeh.

Done. Says my mother as we nabbed the bargain of the year.

She turns to my brother and me.

Tak meh bag, an ain o yeh haud the tansad, till Eh get this manoeuvred across it. And in a couple of minutes my wee sister vanished under a pine forest, with just room for her to peek out on the world. My mother gives us directions.

Ain o yeh get the tap, an ain o yeh get the bottom, tae balance it, till weh get tae the bus stop. Are yeh haudin on? Right aff weh go! Wagons Ho!

We arrived at the bus stop. And encountered our first hurdle. The bus conductor.

Geezo Mrs, thirs nae weh that things comin on the bus.

Says WHA?

The sehze o the bus says, thats wah! Fir Ehll no get it in the cubbie.

And he was right. Try as he might. It would not go in the Cubbie.

Right says my mother to us. Then wehll jist hae tae get the tram car an walk fae Maryfield.

By this time its getting dark, and I was beginning to go off this tree big time, and were all getting weary, but mission get-the-tree-hame had to be accomplished. We were speaking my mother here.

We got this giant of a thing on the tramcar right enough. The tram conductor had to fold down two rows of seats muttering away to us, guid joab its no the busy time. He just got ignored. Fifteen minutes later when we got to the terminus at the top of the Forfar Road, it had started to pour down that damp feechy sleet.

Nearly hame now says mother, convincing none of the troops.

My wee brother walked on uncomplaining but getting very downcast. I got thumped for mumping about my gloves getting soaking, and me having cold fingers and got instructed; Bla on them, well be hame afor yeh kin say Jeck Roabson. I was too tired to care about any Jeck Roabson, whoever he was, as we trudged on.

The only happy one was my sister. She was wrapped up like a wee bird, nesting in the tree. And look like a bird she did with all the pine cones sticking to her pink feather adorned fluffy angora bonnet and matching mittens.

Anyway we finally arrived home, and my father mustve been looking out for us because he was at the door when we got there.

Whit the hells that? Sherwood Forest?

Whit the hell diz it look like? An niver mind a that, jist help iz get it in the hoose. An how dae yeh suggest Eh get a TWELVE TAE FOURTEEN fuht tree intae a hoose thats only TEN fuht fae the flair tae the ceilin?

She stopped dead. I stopped dead. My wee brother burst into tears. My wee sister, the pink bird, was oblivious, lucky her.

Wed humphed that tree for what seemed the same distance as it took Hannibal to get his elephants over the Alps. AND IT WAS TOO BIG.

So we small group of pioneers stood looking out the living room window as my father sawed off the extra feet and re-pinned the bottom of the tree to its crossed wooden slats, then dragged it through the door and stood it up in the living room.

Och now, admit it, diz that no look jist great enthuses my mother, beaming at all and sundry, including the tree. Nae herm done. It widda been worse if it hid been too wee.

I can still picture my father as he passed by my brother and me, looking at us, then laughing as he walked into the back kitchen to put away his hammer and saw.