Do you want your children to continue the tradition of pine Christmas trees dripping with tinsel, lights and angels? Then put a bit of effort into creating your own unconventional Christmas trees, writes Bruce Munro.
The exact origins of our unorthodox Christmas trees are lost in the mists of time, or at least in the mists of degenerating neural pathways.
It might have been the difficulty of getting a tree to sit agreeably in the corner of the lounge.
Perhaps it was the annoyance of endlessly picking up pine-needles shed by said tree and traipsed around the house by young feet.
It could have been reluctance to add the price of a soon-to-be-discarded lump of foliage to the mounting bills of this joyous season.
Certainly, it was partly the incongruity of following northern hemisphere winter practices in summery southern climes.
Anyhow, for whatever reasons, the family's first non-pine-tree Christmas came to pass.
And it was almost certainly a cabbage tree, wrapped in lights and bedded in a bucket of soil and rocks, at the feet of which gathered assorted wrapped presents.
And the children said unto the parents, "What the ...?''
And the parents replied, "For unto you today in the town of Dunedin is given a Christmas tree which will not die but will be planted out in the new year and will shed leaves which will choke the lawnmower for all eternity.''
"Well, at least we still get presents,'' the children did exclaim.
The chicken-wire tree might have been next.
Chicken wire allows a surprising amount of variety in the final form of the tree.
Mesh sizes ranging from baby-stoat-proof-tiny to almost what-are-the-chickens-doing-in-flower-bed large will cater to all tastes.
And being able to buy chicken wire by the metre at hardware stores allows for the assemblage of a tree that is big or small enough for any space.
Two chicken-wire trees have graced the homestead living room.
The first, with a large mesh, and draped in strings of golden plastic pearls and white fairy lights, was taller than an average-sized adult.
The second, with a smaller mesh, and sporting a large chicken-wire star that could have been mistaken for angel wings or the arms of an electricity pylon, stood about 1.5 metres tall.
Constructing a chicken-wire Christmas tree begins with establishing the desired diameter of the base and top of the cone, then cutting the mesh with a pair of metal snips, overlapping sections to create a cone, and folding bits of the edge wire so it holds the whole thing in place.
It is a creative, make-it-up-as-you-go sort of process that can be a bit hard on the fingers.
The star was a little larger than intended and struggled to take a form consistent with its appellation.
But any negative reactions from what should be receptive family members can be dealt with by questioning their capacity for art appreciation.
The dead tree was a triumph.
What could be more beautifully sculptural than the bare, black branches of a tree that has quietly succumbed to a lack of light in the overgrown nether regions of the lower section?
Snapped free and deposited in a tin bucket full of rocks, its branches were then traced with fairy lights and adorned with gold and silver Christmas balls of various designs.
It looked fantastic, especially in the dark.
Last year's Christmas tree was a pile of flax stalks.
They work surprisingly well.
An important element in the flax-stalk Christmas tree is a ring of wire, which establishes and secures the base of the "tree''.
The other, is dried flax stalks.
Fresh flax, with its rich green and purple stems and deep red and yellow flowers, looks fabulous (for a while, at any rate), but oozes sap.
Cabbage tree leaves torn in to strips were used to tie the flax stalks to the base wire and in a bundle at the top of the cone.
It is almost a two-person job.
But getting willing volunteers to "help build a Christmas tree out of flax'' can be an even tougher proposition.
Retaining some of the dried flowers on the flax stems adds interest.
A glass bowl of Christmas lights in the base, and an optional star on top, completes this fitting homage to Christmas in Aotearoa.
Well, its creator thought so.
The kids said it might stop them inviting friends over.
This year's Christmas tree is a rebuild using the smaller chicken-wire marvel.
Take off the star, wrap black builder's paper around the cone, secure it with staples, use a sharp knife to puncture the paper with well-placed holes, thread a string of lights up the inside of the cone, push one through each hole (leaving a handful of lights to crown your masterpiece) plug it in and switch it on.
Too much.
Breaking free of snow-bound yuletide traditions has worked a treat in many ways.
Christmas at the beach and presents that include vouchers for donations to aid agencies have been well-received.
A favourite Christmas meal, even for the now-adult children, is an antipasto platter feast which includes seafood and an enormous mixed berry fruit salad.
But the Christmas trees seem to have backfired.
The youngest child is not alone in vowing his family will have proper Christmas trees of green pine with all the trimmings.
Philistines.
Just wait until they see what can be done with a year's worth of recycled plastic drink bottles.
