The Beginnings of a Christmas Celebration: The Tree

It is official! Christmas has emerged in our house. The Papa had an amazing idea to go night time searching for our Christmas Tree. This Mama does not like the cold, but am always open to experiencing things with the Babes without complaint. I would have rather spent my time in the exceptionally warm cabin by the fire eating chocolate chip cookies but that was not going to happen. We went to a magical Christmas Tree Farm. The history of the farm is amazing and is something straight out of the 1820s (when the farm was first inhabited by the ancestors of the family who runs the operation today). There are winding hills, a covered bridge over a stream, a white turn of the century house and endless space. While cutting our tree...wait I'm getting to the tree part eventually...we could hear coyotes in the woods. I simply found it awesome.

Now the tree part, THE TREE!!!:

The Mama, is meager and thought that a 9 ft tall tree with a decent base of 4 feet would be substantial. Well the Papa drifted off and found a colossal 9 ft tree with almost a 9 ft base. Yes he did! The trunk of this tree when cut was almost half a foot in diameter. Each year I cut a piece of the trunk to turn into a Christmas ornament. Well, this year I guess I will be making a celebratory wall clock! The tree would also not fit into the mesh contraption so we had to place this crazy tree (well the Papa did) on top of the car with no restraint of needles.

When we got home close to 10 in the evening, the Babes were asleep, but the Papa had to get the tree up the stairs of the apartment. It came after much struggle, but would not fit through the door. Eventually it pulled through, however the Papa had to prune it to make sure it would fit into our new tree base. It did and when standing erect, I must say was beautiful (that is of course minus the melting ice and floor covered with pine needles).

So now I not only am responsible for two little ones and a bunny but watering a massive tree every hour. Ah! The joys of a Griswald - I mean Grier Christmas!

Love to all

The Mama