That's right. We got a good one.
This year my father-in-law and my brother-in-law's family tagged along and went tree hunting with us. In the 11th hour, just before sunset, we spotted our glorious tree off in the distant meadow.
After shaking off the snow and making a full circle around it, I gave the Blue Spruce my seal of approval and the ceremonial tree cutting commenced.
There's a boy in this picture but I can't see him!
Thankfully, the brothers drug the tree back to the truck because it was one heavy beast!
We then secured our load, and drove back to civilization. On the way home, we laughed heartily at all of the lame Charlie Brown trees that we saw in the backs of trucks, and sinfully paraded our superior Christmas tree through main street (all two stoplights of it.) We ended our slow processional by parking in front of our favorite restaurant to flaunt our trophy tree the way hunters show off their elk racks in the back of the truck.
If you don't live in small town America, you won't get this comparison.
I know it's prideful and wicked to boast of Christmas trees, but when you harvest your tree from the forest, and not from a tree farm or worse...Home Depot, then it is much more difficult to find a full, pretty tree that is the right size. When you come across one, it's really hard to remain humble about it.
But sometimes the Lord humbles us by allowing an elk to urinate on our tree without our knowledge of it until it is in our house and fully decorated, at which time we have to cut out many, many branches to keep our house from smelling like elk estrous.
But that was years ago.
The snow was really gorgeous that day! It was so fluffy that it looked fake, like it came out of a department store display area.
After we got home, we did the best we could to make the tree fit into our rental house which lacked the vaulted ceilings we've grown accustomed to in our old home. A little trimming, and TaDa! We have a Christmas tree.
Not bad for a tree that's never been groomed, fertilized, or pruned.
And a Bonus: Here's a little pic of the kitchen eating area...because it was on my camera. Did I mention that the rental house was built in 1940? That's not my choice of wall color, either. I just try to make the best of it while we're here.
Bragging about my Christmas tree while secretly suffering with miserable allergies because of it,