O Christmas Tree

Up we went to Bear Mountain to find a Christmas tree. As soon as we pulled along the timber line, I spotted the perfect tree. Or so I thought. Little did I know, I married a big Christmas tree enthusiast.



"What kind do you want, fir or evergreen?"




"That's a pine. That one's a fir. Not a very nice one though."




"Firs are fuller. I think we need a fir."




"Bethany, use good judgement. That tree is uneven on the right side."




"That one has two trunks."




"We need a full one, with lots of branches. Are you looking for full ones?"




"We're not looking for a Charlie Brown tree."

And my personal favorite: "Beth, not every tree can be a Christmas tree."

So true, so true.

I decided that I would keep my eye out, but I was very inexperienced as a tree finder. When I was growing up, I don't think we ever actually chopped down a tree, and my dad was the tree expert in the family.

Ella was particularly patient with her daddy. What I thought was going to be a quick trip turned into 2 1/2 hours of tree hunting. It is such a beautiful area, and with such great weather I can't complain about driving around and looking in the mountains.

(see any you like?)

And as we neared the top of Bear Mountain, overlooking our neighbor's land, we found it. (In fact, it was right by our fence line. And ask my mom, it's a long stretch from one end of the ranch to the other.)

And faster than I could get Ella's shoes on and her jacket buttoned (or a picture taken), the saw was grinding and the chosen tree came down.

A man and his tree.

(don't worry, I realized her shoe was missing and we found it by a shrub.)




Oh the trip home! Our precious cargo fell off 3 times, rolling in the ditch, when finally Spencer locked it down with his Hydro Bed.




Once inside our house, with only a few minor adjustments, Christmas music rockin', lights blinking, and one Tank kitty perched halfway up in the branches, Ella and I were ready to decorate.




How charming. Merry Christmas!