I remember well the odd Christmas trees that I have met over the years. My grandparents always had a live tree that my grandfather and uncles had cut down in the woods behind our house. It always dominated the living room of the small house we lived in. There was no room to sit in there with the tree in the room and it was a poorly heated room anyway. The double doors were kept open so that the tree could be seen from the front room. Everyone preferred the front room. It was where the coal furnace stood and the sewing machine and, most importantly, the television.
Live trees were a feature of the next home that I lived in because there was another set of woods from which to cull them for free. The trees generally stood in the front window to be seen from the street corners outside. Occasionally they would be placed in a corner near the furnace, but that always shortened their lives and dropped needles were a bitch to clean up.
An artificial tree would see me through my teenage years in the new house that my foster mom had built for herself. Except for the occasional live tree at my future in-laws house, it was the end of live trees for me. Over the years my tree has shrunk to a pre-lit tabletop tree that is easy to set up and take down. The live trees stay outside in my back yard to be decorated by ice and snow.