And the fact is the tree thing emerged from Europe in the 16th century (the German people kicked it all off) and it would have been snowy and chilly there.
Just when you are supposed to put it up and then bring it down is a little hazy, although staunch tradition (from when it all began) means they should be brought into the house and decorated on Christmas Eve...and then removed after the 12th night, with is January 5.
But of course following such a traditional trend would be catastrophic for those tasked with the job of setting up festive window displays in shops.
And in some places, notably the US and Canada, some trees go up just after Thanksgiving which is the fourth Thursday of November.
Whatever the tradition and the timing, I have my own traditions and timing.
I put it up after I find one that's going for a good price.
And so it came to pass a weekend back that I found one, and after giving it the obligatory wash-down with a fine spray of water (to reduce the pine smell) and a bit of a trim-up, put it in the bucket and shackled the top of it to a couple of small screws in the wall.
Some people say put sugar in the water, or an Aspirin, to keep the tree from deteriorating, but we can't do that because the dopey cat drinks from it.
And occasionally he'll leap at one of the glittering globes or a dangling length of tinsel.
And so it came to pass that I decided to decorate it and did so with all the imagination and aplomb of a 7-year-old with his eyes closed.
I steered clear of wispy cotton wool however and used the annual (traditional) items which are housed in a shoebox for the other 50 weeks of the year.
I think it came out okay, and topped it off (literally) with the angel/fairy thing which appears to be wielding a wand.
Bit of sticky tape, bit of string and voila...she was sitting pretty.
And then the whole tree fell over.
All I could mutter was "they don't teach you this at school".
Why I said that is a complete mystery...I guess it was the trauma of seeing a tree fall in the forest and being there to hear it.
But I strengthened the fitting joints, adjusted the bucket base and all was soon well.
And so to my special Christmas story for this festive season of '16.
I took two of the grandkids for a walk through the park and down to the shops the other afternoon, and of course with the air being warm they wanted an ice cream.
No worries, so we wandered into the shop and I let them pick what they wanted.
"Can you open mine for me," the littlest one asked, to which I replied that we had to pay for them first.
There was a guy at the counter ahead of us...I big hard-looking guy getting a snack.
He glanced back at us briefly and then watched the attendant scoop his hot food into the container.
Put it this way - he looked like the sort of bloke you wouldn't bicker with.
And then he went to pay and simply said "and I'll pay for their ice creams too thanks mate".
He looked at the girls and said they must have been good during the year and that Santa would accordingly come and see them, and that they deserved their ice creams.
I simply did not know what to say, and outstretched my hand and wished him a very Merry Christmas...and he returned that wish to me.
The kids were delighted and the general opinion was that "he must know Santa".
That was Christmas spirit, plain, sincere and simple.
Have a good one mate, whoever you are...and that goes for one and all.
