by Frances Edstrom
We were lolling around Saturday morning when I suddenly remembered that the Christmas tree, which was still standing in the living room, was supposed to be out on the corner ready to be picked up.
I ran into the living room and began denuding the tree of its lights.
I had apparently not impressed upon John the urgency of the situation, because he was nowhere to be seen. I found him in the middle of his morning ritual of getting ready, which I know from 34 years of experience, takes about a half an hour to forty-five minutes, depending on whether it's to go hunting or to go to work.
Part of the morning ritual is to stand in front of the blaring television checking out the weather (as if looking out the window wouldn't work just as well) and then turning on a news station, nice and loud.
I finally got his attention, and he indicated he would be joining me in due time. I indicated to him that he was going to have to throw on some clothes and help me get the tree out to the corner in less than due time.
I prevailed over the talking heads.
Every year we forget exactly how the tree stand works, and one of us holds the tree up while the other is splayed out on the living room floor under the tree branches yelling directions.
Finally we got the tree out of the stand, out the front door and onto the corner. Of course, as we do nearly every year, we found one last little ornament that had been hiding in the dense branches until that moment.
We went back into the house to vacuum up the spray of needles and try to keep the dog from drinking the water left in the tree stand.
No sooner had we gotten into the house than I looked out the window, and running down the street towards our house was a young kid, followed by a man wearing a Santa Claus hat, walking behind. They stopped at the corner, where we had left our tree moments before.
I called to John to come witness yet another piece of proof that my instincts are always right, and that he owed me a word of thanks for saving him from having to load the tree back on top of his car and finding a spot to dump it.
The boy and man were joined by someone driving an SUV. I had been expecting a flatbed truck, or at least a pickup. How on earth, I thought, are they going to load trees into that thing.
Aha! I hadn't banked on the obvious ingenuity of the Sunriser Kiwanis! The man and boy got into the truck, one in the front seat, one in back, and leaning out the open windows, they and the driver dragged the three trees from the corner back down the street to meet, I assumed, a bigger truck.
In less than a minute, my tree and my neighbors' were out of sight, gone to Kiwanis tree heaven.
Back in the living room, Christmas was gone except for a few needles and a bare spot in front of the window that I quickly filled up with an armchair.
Thanks Kiwanis, Circle K, Boy Scouts and WSHS National Honor Society for being such good-hearted and good-natured neighbors.