Skip to main content

my hunt for a tree


"the best tree ever" he exclaimed!
It’s the same story every year.  I look, I search, I contemplate.  Trees have to be pirouetted around so I can see all the angles.  That’s the Christmas-tree-lot-version. 

This year, my fam is going out to cut a tree; very Griswald like.  In years past, this was our tradition, complete with a bonfire, thermoses filled with hot chocolate and mulled wine; hot dogs to roast on fresh cut sticks.

Mostly, we’d tromp around in the woods, giving each potential tree a once over, until that “Hallelujah Chorus” moment arrived.  

The only problem it was on the other side of an icy cold creek, with banks and drifts of equally cold and deep snow.  Well, hubby being the really swell guy that he is managed to cross the water without drenching himself.  He cut the tree, floated it downstream to a more appropriate place to bring it up the bank, to present me with my prized Noble Fir.  That was the story from an eon ago.  The 2015 tale is ready to be told…

We drove about 10 miles out-of-town and turned onto a well-used forest service road, all while dodging other vehicles piled with families who had the same idea to experience the “wilds” of Christmas tree gathering.

yep, hat, gloves and a cute guy to cut a tree
Donning our hats and gloves, we set off into the wilderness (a term used more tongue-in-cheek) in search of our best tree ever!  Bella Bird dog jumped over branches and bushes heavy with wet snow, while the littles slogged along knee deep and grinning.

I’d like to say some great escapade happened.  It didn’t.  We found trees straightaway; branches sparse with wide open for sparkling ornaments to dangle. 

What did happen - a great gift - memories were revived and created; seeking, sawing and sliding conifers to be tidily tied to the top of our cars, and giggles, frozen fingers and rosy cheeks…wrapped up with spinning cookies in the snow … now who’s grinning?


Missy





If you have been mildly amused, challenged or inspired by what you have read, please pass on my blog to a friend, colleague, family member or even random acquaintance


Labels

Labels:

Comments

  1. sewsavyDecember 14, 2015 at 5:32 AM

    AWWW! What a heartwarming story and happy memories. You make the rest of us a bit envious. It's more fun to do the tree hunt in snow than rain. Beautifully written and lyrical.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Missy ADecember 14, 2015 at 11:44 AM

      Thank you, my friend. This is the first year in many, that we've been able to go out with family to get a tree. It was very sweet and special. Definitely picturesque in the snow, but cold. Happy Christmas to you!

      Delete

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Good morning, lab rats!

One of my favorite movies is “A Good Year,” starring Russell Crowe.  It’s a fun little romp through the South of France, filled with wine, romance and very poignant moments of clarity. Max, is a driven, pompous business man who is willing to use, abuse and finagle his way to the top, and then gloat.  He is never satisfied with his accomplishments.  "Good morning, lab rats,” indicates his ‘tude. Fanny, on the other hand, is a bicycle wielding, passionate woman.  She is suspicious, short-tempered and very jealous, yet content with her way of life; minding the business of others. The storyline is obvious:  opposites attract, love blooms and then blows up.  Reflecting on the vast difference in their existences, this dialogue is uttered: Max:   This place does not suit my life. Fanny:  No Max, it’s your life that does not suit this place. Makes me wonder how many times I have said no to things because it didn’t fit into my prec...
4 comments
Read more

urban girl in the country

green in concrete For the last lot-of-years I’ve lived in urban areas.  I’ve become a city girl with hints of a flower child mixed with hipster nuances…translated I like to wear skinny jeans.  This is the total opposite of how I grew up, which was on a farm.  My paternal grandparents grew, raised, caught and hunted for everything they ate – radical organic, free-range stuff.  On my Mom’s side of the fam tree, there were green grocers and orchard growers.  Heck, I was in 4-H raising feeder calves and a small flock of wooly sheep.  Gardens, canning, freezing and preserving everything was the ordinary. I carried on the gardening-preserving, saving the spoils piece, until I found myself in fresh veggie-at-a-farmer’s-market heaven!  The foreign city I found myself in had a temperate climate where fruit and vegetables could be grown year ‘round, and … it was sold at a giant open air market every week.  Yippee!  I no longer needed to ...
8 comments
Read more

wishing flower, vulnerable and beautiful

do you see a weed or a wish? Let’s just say, I’m not an early morning girl.  Those who know me appreciate this and quietly leave me alone until I’ve had a chance to emerge from my pre-coffee zombie state.  However, there is a bird glee club that begins at about 3:30, yes in the morning.  It’s lovely and melodic; leaving me no choice but to listen.  Translated, this means I’ve been up before my norm.  The youthful hours are warm, but fresh; they beg for a walk, and so does Isabella. Yesterday was a little cooler so our pace was speedy, at least for my little legs.  We passed cars and bushes and bugs zipping around … and the rejected weed. pulled up by its roots discarded wishing flower tossed aside left at the edge of the sidewalk the sun beat down life ebbing from the slender stalk, leaves drying, privately curling desperate to hold onto being funny , how I noticed the thrown-away on a morning walk my thought to stop and ...
6 comments
Read more