The Christmas tree

I can’t remember a Christmas without a Christmas tree… My dad always got it on Christmas Eve, from the cattle market in Cambridge, where he also got the turkey… thinking about it now maybe he got the tree a day before that and it was kept in the garage… we didn’t have a car when I was very young and I can’t imagine him cycling home with a turkey and a tree! Once  we had a car that was fine! Even when we moved and we got the Harry turk as dad called the bird, and the tree from somewhere else  he still left it as late as possible to get it.

One year he did lave it too late… no trees anywhere. he drove round all the shops and farms and places which usually sell them to no avail. My mum being very inventive and unflappable, just gave a sigh and a loving look and decorated our potted rubber plant! I wish I had a photo! Eventually the rubber plant grew to big for our house, lush and with shiny leaves and dad took it to the research institute where he worked and it was put at the bottom of the stairs. last time I visited, which was many years ago, the rubber plant was a magnificent beast and reached up to the ceiling two floors above!