Finding just the right Christ-
mas tree is a tricky business. Con-
trary to what some people believe,
a twig with two branches does not
a Christmas tree make. My hus-
band and I disagree about the actu-
al method of procuring a tree; he’s
perfectly happy to go out and buy
a tree, whereas I am more tradi-
tional and believe there is nothing
more Christmassy than a good
romp through the countryside on a
tree-searching expedition.

He says his method is much
more sensible because someone
else has already done all the hard
work. Sensible? Who gives a fly-
ing fig whether a plan is sensible
during the Christmas holidays!
Tramping for miles through the
snowy bush, breathing in all that
crisp December air, feeling the
blood rushing through your veins,
spying all those cute little forest
creatures — what could be more
exhilarating! I’m ready to tell
ghost stories and have snowball
fights. He wears a dour face and
grumbles about silly things, like
having cold feet.

Not just any old tree will do. A
Christmas tree must have person-
ality. Looking for this special
quality is something that must be ~
leamed through long years of
experience — there are no college
courses covering this important
subject. Finding just the right tree
is almost as complicated as find-
ing a mate, Each tree must be
carefully studied for certain per-
sonality traits.

-Is it fat and fluffy? Is the height
just right? Do the branches hang
just so? Does it look strong
enough to stand up under the
weight of several tons of decora-

_ tions? Is ita pukey shade of green
that will clash with all your furni-
ture? Does it appear to be occu-
pied by a little forest animal? Does
it have that cuddly look that reach-
es out and smacks you square in
the heart? If you really had to,

- could you comfortably live with

this tree for a whole year? Does
this look like a happy tree?

After having found your per-
fect tree and dragged it home,
your next problem is where to put
it. No matter how carefully you
have studied your subject, it’s a
known fact that Christmas trees
grow at least four feet in height
and girth during the trip back to
your house. This strange phe-
nomenon has puzzied scientists for
years.

You originally planned to place
your perfect Christmas tree in
front of the living room window
so your neighbours can also
admire it, but the branches reach —
so far out into the room that you'll
have to move the couch and coffee
table. So then you try moving it
down a little, except that now your
favourite chair, the moth-caten
one with the coffee stains and sag-
ging scat cushion that fits your
backside just so, is completely
covered in tree branches,

"Next you try a spot clear across

8 Terrace Review —— Wednesday, December 18, 1991

the room, in front of the built-in
floor-to-ceiling bookcase. This is a
nice roomy spot that you grudg-
ingly admit was just made for fat,
fluffy Christmas trees, even if it
isn't visible from the street, But
then another unexpected problem
crops up.

You haven't read a book in
years, haven’t even thought about
it, in fact, but now that all those
books are safely buried behind a
huge mound of branches, you
think that you might like to read a

- book over the holidays. You might

even decide to read two or three.
And now that you really think
about it, you are quite certain that
you will be seized by a sudden lit-
erary frenzy. Better move the tree.
Just in case.

You try squeezing it in beside

There's one on every Christmas
gift list.

It’s virtually impossible to find
a Christmas gift for my father-in-
law. ‘There’s nothing he doesn’t
already own. He has enough ~~
gadgets, sweaters and screw-
drivers to fill the Skeena Valley.
For sheer entertainment, he buys
jackets, five at a crack. He’s
fussy about his socks — they
must be seamless, made of soft
cotton and nylon with loose elas-
tic, and in a "dog nugget" sort of
colour range. He buys these by
the case at some outlet store back
east.

He’s got a large closet full of
shirts in varying shades to match
those socks, He’s got three televi-
sion sets, two VCR’s, and two
stereo systems. He subscribes to
every magazine printed in the
English language. He owns every
do-it-yourself tool ever advertised
in Popular Mechanics, and some
that he invented himself.

This man has been known to
buy three small appliances simply
because they were a "good deal", .
and give two of them away. This
is his one true hobby: buying
things.

So he has everything. An auto-
matic back scratcher. A fancy
garbage can cart. A Vegematic
slicer, He even has an electric
foot massager — he used to have
two, but he gave me one.

Sometimes I think he makes it a
point to have everything, for the
sole puspose of torturing his
family at Christmas — a subcon-
scious thing, I’m sure.

As the family gift-buyer, I listen
earnestly throughout the year,
alert for any hint of material
yearning. He never says, "Gee,
those thing-a-ma-jigs are interest-
ing. I should get one of those

someday." He never complains
about anything being worn out or
broken, he simply fixes the old
one or buys a new one. By the

the television set, but this doesn’t

work either. Now the only way
you can Johnny Carson is to climb
half-way inside the tree. Then
someone suggests that you rear-
range all the furniture. Good idea,
After several back breaking hours
of lugging heavy furniture all over
kingdom come, you realize some-
thing still doesn’t seem quite right.
Now the room looks lopsided; the
furniture is all scrunched together
at one end of the room, and you
can’t find the television set any-
where,

Your perfect Christmas tree
finally ends up outside, stuck in a
snowbank in front of the living
room window. It’s been invaded
by two scruffy squirrels and a bird
has carried off most of the tinsel,
but at least the neighbours can
admire it.

case.
One December, I thought I’d
found a weak spot. I noticed his
household was short of smoke
alarms, and thought to myself,
Aha —a genuine safety need
here, Honing my Visa card, I was

ready to wrap up the perfect gift.

Three days later, he proudly
showed off his latest purchase.
"Look at this, I got seven of
these smoke detectors on sale.
They were such a deal, I bought
three more for each of you.”

I got him a poinsettia.

It took eleven years for me to
accept the fact that he was simply
impossible at Christmas. I fought
all the way. One year, I even
bought him cotton and nylon
loosely elasticized seamless
socks, in a dog-nugget shade, to
add to his stockpile. I knew he
didn’t need them. He already had |
sixty pairs.

So I gave up. I just sent family
photos and pretty cards. It was no
fun. I felt like I’d surrendered to
something — the Grinch?
Scrooge? I don’t know, but I
hated it.

| Forestry Insights —_ ae

— Continued from page. 7 ——

tripling of annual esearch’
budgets from around $35 million
to $100 million, And, "Much of
this would likely be paid by
industry."

Squish remembered Jovial’s

cry of horror when he read a -

copy of Reed’s report. Gears
whirred, his face paled.. A
reduction of three to six percent
in available timber. An increase
of about $6 per cubic metre for
saw logs — ‘around 10 to 15
percent over what he was paying
now — and it could be double
that. ;

And then the one that irked
Jovial the most, higher overhead
costs. This would come with the
hiring of additional multi-disci-
plinary land management teams
and the need to cope with time
consuming and costly regulatory
systems yet to be devised.

Last year, I sent the usual
photos and card, Later on, while
browsing through the drugstore
racks, I came upon a musical
card. When it was opened, "O
Come All Ye Faithful" played in
electronic notes.. On.a, whim, 1...
sent it to my father-in-law.

He was delighted. He opened it
over and over again, just to hear
the music. It amazed him that a
card could play music.

For thirteen years, I’d struggled —

to find just the right gift. I'd
spent hours hunting through
catalogues and store aisles, and a
lot of money on items he had no
interest in or need for,

But this he liked. A four dollar.

card. His liking that card made:
me feel good. And I realized why
I'd been searching for just the
right gift. It was that good feel-
ing.. The perfect gift to him had
given me something back.

The other day, he called and
told me that the music still plays.

It does for me too.

estry research. It called for a © Reed himself admitted in his

presentation: ."The added costs
for raw: material alone will prob-

ably exceed $500 million annual- =~

ly on.current harvest levels. This
comes hard on the heals of a
similar increase in costs due to

stumpage and . other ' policy 7

changes introduced in 1987-88."

"No way," Jovial had declared.
And that was the end of it.
Reed’s paper was never men-
tioned again.

"This is not written as a
doomsday scenario," Reed had
‘said. "On the contrary, I believe
that the best years of the B.C.
forest sector are ahead of us,
provided that we advance with a
clear picture of the risks and
how these can be mitigated. -

"T would suspect that Forestry
Canada might be persuaded to
include intensive forestry in the
next Forest Resource Develop-
ment Agreement, but not as
direct payments to industry,"
was how Reed had stated it.

"Good old FRDA II," Squish

reminisced. "Five hundred mil-

lion a year? Ha! A few months
later the real FRDA commitment
was known and it was less than
half that amount for five years."

Squish picked up a reasonably
flat rock and skipped it across
the surface of the lake. Lost in
thought, he barely realized he
had walked the last short leg of
his hike to the lake.

"seven, eight, nine... Not bad
for an aging man." Then, drift-
ing back to his original line of
thought: "Commitment... Where
is the commitment? FRDA II?"

Squish pondered the world
around him. As he left the clear
cut and walked into the forested
buffer zone around the shores of
Gearbox Lake, his attachment to
nature had changed. Sunlight
shimmering off the surface of
the lake. Birds chirping. Every-
where he looked there was for-

est, and above the height of that —

proud forest were mountain tops
with more forest still.

"It’s a beautiful world," he
thought to himself. But in his
‘heart he knew his world was an
illusion. And once again a sense
of depression began to set in.

Scone.
Bank

‘U7 Ob Lakelse Are.

625-2261
Szasons greetings
fan) our endl y

Stalf Bm

TRY 04f two new
aulgrated Bonk
by Kate Asneu-

ac

ra |

quilly

CU Neems Auto Refinish
RMs Aut, in isF\iny,
Good RE Ante Ke 7

Stuff to Set
INerly Ons sas
= Ne pee

rr

he
\S Gep ov

Oe ae ee nee ne ne