Bubble Tree Memories

Day 63: I don't really know which came first, the Bubble Tree or your narrator, but as far back as I can remember, it was set up for every Christmas of my early years. It was not always as you would see it today. No, its boughs were originally white, the needles made of a (presumably) fire-retardant paper. Its lights were somewhat squatter than these, although almost as tall, and encompassed a wider range of colored plastics and bubble tubes. Over the years, however, the white paper yellowed with age, and my mother's attempts to salvage it with spray-on flocking were disastrous. She wanted to toss it in the trash, but I protested and was allowed to save the poor, sad thing in the hopes of some day restoring it. When I moved away from home, it was consigned to an old steamer trunk in an unheated outbuilding where in a further indignity, it mildewed. The next time I saw it, I was in my twenties, but still I could not bear to consign it to the bin. Instead, I stripped off the moldy paper and salvaged the metal armature which held the lights. The lights themselves were no longer functional and were discarded as well. The base (a plaster pedestal) was in good shape, so I saved it as well.

Bubble lights had by this time disappeared from the market, so I held very little hope of being able to restore my childhood treasure. Then one year, they reappeared on the market shelves in the form you see them here. The tree required nine lights; the new strings only held seven. I did the necessary rewiring and installed them on the armature. Then I wrapped the framework with green garland, having failed to find the white I'd hoped to buy. It was a small concession to make when considering that I was giving my favourite item of Christmas decor a new lease on life. I also laid in a supply of extra lights, just in case.

That was about thirty years ago now. Today, fully lighted, the Bubble Tree again stands in my home, merrily bubbling away for a conservative half a dozen nights or so during the holiday season. At the rate the lights burn out, my stash of spares will last throughout my remaining years.