That's right people. It's November 30th and we're getting our tree. A real, live, needles sticking you in the eyeball Douglas Fir and then we had hot chocolate. We even listened to Christmas music on the ride to the farm. Extreme times....
This year we are choosing for a precut tree, since they're usually so much fuller and fluffier and does not require a two hour expedition. I may push for the hacksaw next year, but I choose my battles.
Besides, the 50 or so trees they had precut to choose from seemed a hard enough decision as it was. Even Yuula had to get in on the search, tho I must say her opinion does not hold as much weight as mine and her mothers. It comes in time little hushpuppy. First you have to be able to spell 'tree'.
The tree guy started to become concerned for us when we started strolling the rows for the fifth time. Apparently most people don't take this kind of time decided on what tree they'll let die in their living room for the next month so...
...we made friends with this fella. He had a nice low front and high back, perfect for hiding gifts and keeping space from the floorboard heater. Yuula agreed so we strung it up. Tomorrow morning starts the blitzkrieg.
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