The Machinery of Night

Posted 7:53 PM by Angie Schultz

Bringing in the Trees

We went to the local garden center on Friday and picked out our Christmas tree, a Fraser fir. Naturally there was much judging and considering, hoisting out trees and pulling on their needles and spreading their branches. Finally it came down to two trees. I was plucking deciduous leaves from one when I came upon...a rock.

"Look Niles, a rock! There was a rock in this tree! Feel how light it is. Feels like pumice."

"Hmmm! Must've come from Oregon, or Washington. Wherever the tree was grown."[1]

"Wow. This can't be some local rock, right? This is pumice, red pumice."

"Yeah, that's volcanic. None of that around here."

"Well, we should get this tree. I'm going to take this rock home, and we can't do that and not get the tree. This is a cool rock. Imagine this rock coming all that way, riding in this tree, just waiting for us to---er, what's all that on the ground?"

"It looks like, um, pumice. Red pumice."

"Oh. It must be that stuff they use for ground covering. That rock didn't come from Oregon. It came from right here."

"Yeah. Still want the tree?"

"Yes. I guess."

"Still want the rock?"

"No."

Stupid rocks.

At least it wasn't a bat.

[1]But the National Christmas Tree Association informs us that Fraser firs are native to the Appalachians, and grown primarily in North Carolina. So we're idiots.