My family has an elaborate faux Christmas tree.

It has not always been that way.

Once upon a time, a popular department store plastic and wire excuse of a tree that adorned our sunroom with a unique lean that had to be leveled with the assistance of a folded sheet of A4 was all we had for Christmas.

There was not enough tinsel across Northern Tasmania to hide its inadequacy.

The tree signified Christmas and that meant so much, but it was half-baked ornamentation at best.

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