Growing up, we never had a regular Christmas tree. That may have been because my mom was creative, or it might have been because we were poor and necessity is the mother of invention. Perhaps it was both. About two weeks before the 25th, my mom and dad would go to the woods and find a limb that she thought was just right. My dad would then affix the limb to a platform, and Mom would put flocking on it and hang “icicles” and cheap treats from the branches. It was fantastic!