Christmas Tree Chablis 01/07/2010
Karen: Holiday Greetings to All! This really is a true story. Unfortunately, Dillon will have to tell you more how the wine tasted because after this particular adventure – well, quite frankly I got plastered due to the trauma. I'll let this little "ditty" I wrote be an intro as to why I was forced to over-imbibe on that fateful day: Over the river and through the woods With Dillon and Chablis in tow To find a great pine As we drink our wine My face began to glow I was quite perplexed By what I saw next As I looked up toward space My mind just can’t shake Wine dripped from my face when A buzzard dropped a snake!!! Dillon: As I remember things, it was a brisk winter day with fluffy full clouds in mid December back in 1985ish. I thought to myself, surely any minute the skies would unload some white puffy Christmas spirit as I headed to Karen’s to try a new wine. Karen: My dear readers, that is not exactly the way things went. Oh, but it was a bleak, gray December day with drizzling rain; just as cold as a miners butt. It was a perfect day to stay home and open a big cheap bottle (picture a Moonshine jug) of Chablis Blanc and read a book in front of a crackling fire. Out of the blue, Dillon popped by with a really great idea. "Hey Karen, let's go get a Christmas tree.” Dillon: As I was saying, I kicked back with a giant glass of wine so startling I had to pour it down my tongue directly into my throat. No swirling and sniffing for this wine. I still believe there was some residual Moonshine in that old jug. Anyways, with Christmas Day fast approaching our conversation drifted to how prepared my apartment was (or wasn’t) for my first solo adult Christmas. Karen was ahead of me as far as the wine went, because her next proposal surely was influenced by her spirit consumption. With chagrin, I confessed I had no tree adorning my first apartment. Karen would have none of that lack of holiday spirit and insisted we go right that minute to get a Christmas tree. Karen: Actually, Dillon came by to encourage me to drop what I was doing and join him to get his first Christmas tree. I thought he meant buy a tree, and I said to myself, that shouldn't take too long so I decided to go 'cause I liked riding in his old VW bug. Being such a crummy day outside I didn't think it would harm anything to tote along my jug of Chablis Blanc. Dillon: We grabbed a sippy-cup and her jug of wine and off we went. My vehicle at the time was an old VW bug. So old that I’m the only person alive that could actually drive it, but the radio worked fine so she was a good enough ride for me. The biggest issue was the brakes – as they only worked a little. To accommodate, I timed my stops carefully, and creatively utilized 3rd gear, 2nd gear, and eventually 1st gear, and with a few prayers eventually downshifted my way to a stop. In a close second to the missing brakes were the holes in the floor board blowing more cold air than the vents could blow hot. I always kept blankets in the Bug and once positioned correctly over the heater vents one could stay somewhat warm. Karen:When I got into the VW I noticed some serrated knives lying on the floor board, and I thought nothing of it, I mean its Dillon after all and we're just going to the store or a parking lot some place to buy a Christmas tree. Now since it was so very wet and cold that day I had slipped on a pair of shoes before I left the warmth of my home. Something practical but also holiday-like. Danged if I wasn’t certain those five inch red spikes would cheer up the gloom. The Chablis Blanc was beginning to take effect and I was feeling very Christmasy. And off we went…and went..and went. "Dillon" I said "just where are you gonna buy this tree"? "Oh” he says, “I'm not buying it, we're gonna cut one down." Now don't get me wrong, I’m all for that kind of thing; right up my alley, but it's just too darn cold, I'm wearing high heels and I just was not dressed for the weather. And that darned old VW had no heat to speak of. Yet still, I decided to go with the flow and I had that big jug of wine - what could go wrong? We drove clear across the county - literally over the river and through the woods. We headed north of the river up Highway 171 – a great long winding road. Up and down, curves and loops, miles and miles and miles. We're having fun now! Really nice getting out of town...tons of trees to choose from and they're FREE! Wonderful!! Dillon: Where we lived you don’t purchase trees; you traipse through the woods for them. Since we lived in town, we had to drive to the woods. I had to refrain from drinking wine at this time so I was stone cold sober, no pun intended. Off we drove across town piled in my VW Bug. We went up Hwy 171 just like Karen said; I was destined to get us deep into the woods heading straight into free-Christmas-tree country. As we drove this winding road, Karen was sipping Chablis happily from her sippy-cup and through chattering teeth we sang Christmas carols. Karen: Six knives my tundra-frozen behind! There is no way we could chop down a tree with a knife and besides, I was holding the wine and wearing high heels. When we stopped to tromp through the woods, I realized, 5 inch spikes are really useful while trekking thru mud, muck, and mire. I just poked those babies down in that wet ground like Wine Spikes. I didn’t even slide. Yep, they really did make a fine feminine hiking heel. We finally decided on a tree and to my horror I realized Dillon was serious about those knives! It took all six of them to saw that darned tree down. I wanted to help, really I did, but I was busy toting the wine. The tree was fabulous so it was worth Dillon’s effort. Dillon: Yes, it took me a while with serrated knives to cut that tree down, but it gave me the opportunity to take many breaks in order to do a little wine tasting from Karen’s sippy cup. We, errrr I dragged the tree, while Karen “toted” the wine to the waiting VW. As I pondered the tree and the front-end trunk I once again found Karen’s sippy-cup in my hands. We stood there looking at the VW Bug with this pine tree lying next to it and I had a moment of utter and complete terror. Obviously no prior thought went in to how we would transport this tree. After a few more sips of wine, ideas of how it would fit popped into my mind. I convinced Karen the trunk was the best place for the tree and I assured her I would be able to see and navigate just fine. We measured the tree length with the width of the road, (actually we didn’t think of that until we got into town and other drivers started swerving off the road to avoid us). The tree fit nicely with either end extending out from either side of the bug. Karen: There was one question on my mind: would Dillon be able to see to drive? He wasn't drinking, (well except for those few times he borrowed my glass), but as I said the trunk is in the front. The trunk lid was up, the Christmas tree was in it and sticking out from side to side and it sure seemed larger than when it was in the woods. Suddenly, it just seemed so dog-gone out of proportion. Dillon assured me he could drive "just fine". He promised the tree wasn't blocking his vision "too much.” I trusted him - shoot, I wasn’t in the drivers-seat and I am considerably shorter than Dillon so he must be right. So off we went. Dillon: We headed back to town with our prize tree hanging out in the front of the bug, perfectly positioned so we could keep an eye on it. I didn’t want to scare Karen too much, but visibility was harsh, the VW windshields aren’t that big to begin with, and then add cold outside and breathing inside fogging up the windows. Needless to say there was a very small window of vision over the trunk, through the tree and fog. Karen: Dillon was talking about tree decorations and Christmas stuff and I was looking out the side window into the sky 'cause I couldn't see out the front for all that tree in the trunk. But all was so very pleasant - I felt like singing Christmas carols again. I was actually feeling glad my buddy stopped by and had trundled me off to the woods. The Chablis was warming me up too. This had turned into a really great day - I was lovin' it - just lovin' it. Suddenly, something in the sky caught my attention. Then out of nowhere IT happened. Like a scene from a horror movie a Buzzard - a big, giant Buzzard - the Mother of all Buzzards, swooped down from I-don't-know-where, paused momentarily, and swooped back up into the sky with a Snake hanging from its claw feet. The snake was alive – just a-flapping from side to side. I knew I was gonna die - just knew it. Everything started moving in slow motion. Then as quick as it began, the Buzzard dropped the snake from its mouth. To top it off, that blasted snake was in the road and I was absolutely positive the dang thing would slither in the tree, through the holes in the trunk and into the VW. Dillon assured me everything was okay, but I said to heck with sippy-cups – I started drinking straight from the jug! Dillon: Just when all was going smoothly, suddenly, out of the blue Karen dramatically yells, “Dillon, stop! Stop, stop, stop! Look up there!” I’m trying to get us stopped trying to see out of fogged up windows – and low and behold there was this huge bird heading straight for us with an object dangling from it’s claws and what appeared to be fighting. As it got closer we realized it had to be a buzzard, and even closer we could make out that it had a snake in its grasp and it looked like the snake did not want to be there. We got the car stopped in time to jump out and as we did the buzzard dropped the snake right in front of the Bug, (oh, the irony). Karen: When that blasted snake fell from the sky I forgot just about everything but as soon as I returned to breathing I realized my lungs were seizing up from the cold. Everything was happening in slow motion. Dillon: The buzzard perched on a tree and watched as we gathered around the snake, with some trepidation I might add, to check it out and see if it was alive. Somehow I ended up with Karen’s wine sippy-cup and I have to tell you at that time, Chablis Blanc tasted quite good. The snake was not moving, so we guessed it was either playing possum or dead and neither of us wanted to get close enough to truly find out. We realized we were keeping the buzzard away from dinner so we jumped back in the Bug and began our Christmas tree journey again. Karen took her sippy-cup back and off we went. For a brief moment though we forgot how cold we were. Karen: I don't remember the drive home or much else for that matter. After the Buzzard dropped the Snake and the bottle of Chablis became just an empty bottle, the day became a blurred mishmash of giant tree, cars veering off the road, horns blaring, wild laughter, and the spins. Dillon: And so we began our journey to my apartment, back over the winding road and hilly terrain of the desolate back roads - finally reaching town and traffic. We made it to my apartment with a lot of gawking from others and a few horn honkers. It was a beautiful tree we decorated. And as we admired our beautiful tree, Karen and I raised our (new) jug and sippy cup. We toasted the tree, the buzzard, and the snake…and of course, the Chablis Blanc. Dillon and Karen: Cheers and happy and safe holidays to all! CommentsLeave a Reply |   Psychedelic Wine Spike Dillon LaBonte
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