The Christmas Tree Hunt

For the past few days, we have been trying to decide what to do about a Christmas tree.  We usually get a tree from a grocery store for about $20, but have noticed that those trees die immediately upon arrival.

Yesterday, I called around to some local tree farms.  We could go to a farm, cut our own tree, and enjoy complimentary cocoa for anywhere from $50-$130.  The guy who quoted me $130 should be slapped.  But we could go for the $50 trees, I guess.  Plus, we could all sip cocoa, so that would be merry.

Then I saw this out my kitchen window whilst doing the dishes.

My husband.  Trimming trees on our property.  Because he can.

My husband is not uber festive.  So this season does not excite him.  He is, however, very lumberjack-y.  Therefore, and henceforth, we decided to all get bundled up and just pick out a tree on our property, knowing full well that it would be a little Charlie Brown-ish.

The kids started out with high hopes.

But don't let those smiles fool you.  Soon, there will be much weeping and gnashing of teeth.  It would seem our kids are lacking the endurance and patience needed for Christmas tree hunting.  Except for Little Dude.  He got carried most of the way and just kept loudly proclaiming:

"It's Christmas!  It's Christmas, Daddy!  Woo Hoo!"

We walked around our lands for about an hour.

The kids were exhausted.  The kids legs stopped working.  The kids were wee thirsty.  The kids could not go on any longer.  The kids were freezing.  The kids were bored.  The kids could use a little snack.  The kids no longer care about Christmas.  The kids don't really see the need for a tree.  The kids wonder why they had to move to the country?

The kids saw deer poop.  The kids liked this.

Daisy Mae dropped to the ground and announced to everyone that she had died.  As we all passed her, lying dead on the deer-poo covered ground, we wished her well and thanked for the few years we had together.

Handsome Dude was aghast that we would just leave his sister to die in the woods.

"Wait, Dad!  Mom!  I think I saw her move!  She maybe not dead!"

sob*wail*sob

Handsome Dude took a stick and gave the not-so-dead Daisy Mae a fierce poke, to ensure her deadness.

Daisy Mae, who miraculously resurrected herself from the dead, jumped up and whacked Handsome Dude.  And the two of them screamed and cried for all the injustice in the world, while the rest of us remained unimpressed.

Except Little Dude.

"Look, everyone!  Its Christmas!  Woo Hoo!"

We started to head back towards the house when Sweet Pea shouted that she had found THE tree.

David and I looked at it and knew full well that we could do no better.

So.  We decided to make it our own.

We headed back to the house where I started to make the hot chocolate and David and Daisy Mae went back to chop the tree down.

David pulled the tree into the house.

 And it was a smidge bigger than we recalled.  But if we suck in our stomachs, we can squeeze by it and still get to the kitchen, no problem.

And we were worried that it wouldn't be "full."

The mammoth tree fell over no less than 8 times as David was trying to position it.  I suggested we bungee cord it to the wall, and that suggestion rendered no response, so I am guessing he was just mad that he didn't think of it first.

He got it all situated and we sat down to dinner.

And while feasted on my delicious meal, the tree came crashing down.  No one even blinked or said anything.  We just went back to eating.

We were numb.  Numb, people.

After dinner, David made some tasty cookies.  The girls and I got to work on our popcorn garland.

I think I am going to need a lot of garland for that tree.

We ran out of lights, so the tree is not decorated.  But good news!  The tree has not crashed down for about 12 hours!

And that was our night.  It was joyful AND triumphant.