Displacement activity

I 

fetched

 the tree from the

'Christmas Tree Forest', 

set up as usual in a vacant lot 

at the side of a busy road.The sylvan glade 

atmosphere somewhat marred by the urgent sirens 

of eight of those rather sinister black unmarked police cars

 tearing past and jostling all the other traffic out of the way as 
I debated the merits of a Norway Spruce over a Nordman Fir.

The spiky Spruce won, because it smells better

and reminds me of my childhood. The needles will shower

 over the tiled floor and stick in my jumper but I can live with that.

I wrestled the 7 foot netted tree in through the boot and across 

the flattened back seats so that it could nestle 

on my left shoulder for the journey home,

thankful that all available police were occupied in the 

opposite direction. Once home I had slightly more difficulty pulling 

it out of the boot and then had to saw off the bottom two inches 
with a rusty saw and find a bucket of water
 to stand it in. It is leaning drunkenly in the garage,but smells 
gorgeous. Whilst in there, I inspected my forced hyacinth

bulbs.They are sulking.A few noodly roots have grown but nothing
 is coming

 out of the 
top. They
have been 

there for
 weeks and 
I'd thought

that surely 
this year they would be ready for Christmas Day.