So I have a deep, soul-searching, philosophical question for you, sweet readers. What kind of tree are you? While you are thinking...
We are the Stanleys and we proudly say no to faux fir!
We are bristly needle, sweet smelling, heavy bough, deep evergreen, real live Christmas tree people. I feel the holidays when there is a tree making my apartment smell like an enchanted forest, when there are pine needles sprinkled across the floor sticking to my wooly socks. It is symbolic of the season, really. Our tree is living and breathing and pulsing in the corner, but the reality is, it is dying. And another year is, too. Making way for something...for the new. It's beautiful, really. Could you imagine if the Rockefeller tree were plastic?
We've never really had a tradition of how we get our tree. We have gotten them from the farmer's market, from the guys selling them on every city street corner, but this year we decided to drive out to the mountains and cut down our own tree.
And that feeling of Christmas carols coming from the radio, hot chocolate in a thermos and pine needles blowing from the top of our car down the highway.
And now the ante has been upped and not only does our tree need to be real. But we need to cut it down ourselves.
Here's a little peek from our adventure, if you'd like to see.
The Christmas tree farm was about as cute as a gingerbread house. You literally pulled down a dirt road, past a lake and up to a field of trees. Santa's little green soldiers.
We took a hayride out to the portion of the field where the trees were prime and proud. On the way our driver took us past their section of Charlie Brown trees, rows of bushes growing holly and bushes they use to make their wreaths. It was so pretty and the air smelled of sap and wood.
We searched through patch after patch of prickly trees, interviewing the potential candidates. CJ let them down slowly, describing one as too sharp and another as sort of tall and weird. What can I say, they just didn't have the qualities we were looking for. And then we found the one. CJ helped topple it down, we tagged it and...went to eat marshmallows by the fire, of course.
And just so we are clear, this is a kid happy on sweets...
And this is the Grinch when you cut off his marshmallow intake...
And once that was clear, we bundled up our tree and headed home.
So, sweet readers, what kind of tree are you?