I don’t really love Christmas, I like it. I like spending time with my family but I don’t love the commercialisation of the day.
I love the Christmas markets in Europe, I love the smell of pine, I love making gingerbread houses. Just not the massive stress and spending that usually accompany the day.
A couple of years ago (coincidentally when Christmas trees started costing around $60 for a nicish one) I felt it was a bit wasteful to grow this tree, cut it down and have it slowly die in your lounge room. Albeit smelling gloriously of pine whilst dying. So I looked into growing one myself in a pot that I could somehow get inside each year. Turns out that they are illegal to grow without a permit as they are considered an invasive weed.
I went to the plant shop to see what my alternatives were. They said the only real alternative is a spruce. They don’t smell of pine but they look kinda Christmassy.
Enter Bruce, Bruce the Spruce.
He lives outside for most of the year. He comes in for December. He grows about 1 or 2 cms a year. This will be his third Christmas with us. The star is for a full sized Christmas tree but I feel it gives him a bit more pizazz.
The rest of the house has a touch of Christmas. Just enough to feel somewhat festive. I burn an incense mix of wild orange and cedarwood (absolutely not pine I know but smells kinda earthy and woody, insert imagination here) when I want it to feel a little more Christmassy.
And that is how Christmas arrived at my house.