Tuesday, December 1, 1998 Bob and I went out tonight and bought our first artificial Christmas tree. We've always had live trees; well, dead trees. We've always bought real trees. I remember one year when I lived in the studio apartment, I bought a tree that was so big we had to tie it to the wall with fishing line. That happened more than once, in fact. There was one apartment where we lived where the ceilings were very high, and we had huge trees. We can't have very big ones now. I think Bob said tonight that we have eight foot ceilings. I have no idea. Anyway, last year we started talking about getting an artificial tree. I've always thought it was sort of awful to cut down a tree to use as a decoration for a couple of weeks. I realize that they're grown for that purpose, but it just seems extravagant and wasteful to me. But it was always important to Bob, and thus important to me, and I didn't mind. He liked a special kind of tree, though, that was hard to find here. Douglas fir, I think. Thinner and sparcer than what I normally think of as a Christmas tree, but I got used to them and came to prefer them over the fatter, more "normal"-looking trees that I had had in the past. I still remember one year when I bought what he referred to as the "Christmas bush." Remembering that, and other years when my tree-buying skills failed me (at least according to him), I didn't want to buy the artificial tree without his input. So tonight after I got home from work we headed back out to Hobby Lobby. We got a nice, 6-1/2 foot Douglas Fir that I think will be just fine. I think traditions are important, and I do enjoy a real tree, too, but they're messy and they're fire hazards, and I think it's time, at least for us. Today we walked down to McDonald's for lunch so Misty and I could get A Bug's Life Happy Meals. While we were walking, Matt said something about a cashmere sweater he had seen and coveted, but didn't buy because it was ridiculously expensive; Misty mused aloud about why cashmere was so expensive. I told them this story: The Story of Cashmere Cashmere doesn't come from ordinary sheep. It comes from the incredibly rare Cashmere Goat. There are only five Cashmere Goats in existence, and they live on top of a very high mountain in Tibet, tended by Tibetan monks. The goats, since they are so very rare and precious, are considered to be sacred, and holy, and they are not allowed to be sheared. Their hair, the sacred Cashmere Goat Hair, can only be collected after it sheds from the goat naturally. At least two monks attend each Holy Goat at one time--one monk to place a gold-embroidered white cloth in the path of the goat as it walks, so as to catch any sacred Cashmere Goat Hair that falls naturally from the goat, and one to walk behind and gather up the hair as it falls on the cloth. Since the goats are cared for so religiously, they actually shed less than they would if they were left to their own devices, so very little hair is collected, only a few hairs per week, in fact. It takes almost a year to collect enough Sacred Goat Hair from the five Holy Goats to spin the wool to make one sweater. And only the very holiest of the monks are allowed to spin the wool. Only one monk is chosen every year, and it is considered a very great honor to be chosen to be the Sacred Spinning Monk. Each year, if enough hair is collected for a sweater--and it doesn't happen every year--the Sacred Goat Hair is brought to the chosen Sacred Spinning Monk, who spins the hair into fine yarn which is then wrapped in one of the gold-embroidered white cloths that are used to collect the Sacred Goat Hair. The yarn is carried down the mountain in a golden casket and handed over to the best knitter in the village, known as the Sacred Cashmere Knitter. The Sacred Cashmere Knitter knits the yarn into a sweater, using special golden needles that have been blessed by the Dalai Lama. When she has finished knitting, the Sacred Knitter's husband goes out into the valley and calls the monks back by blowing the Sacred Cashmere Horn. The monks then come back down the mountain, collect the sweater, and Federal Express it to a store selected by secret lottery, where it may be purchased at great price. And that is why cashmere sweaters are so expensive.

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