A white, wintery day. Good day to cut a tree.
We set out at noon, trailing behind Josh and Karin and their bouncing boat trailer. It began to snow big white flakes as we wound our way through the countryside to Cedar Hill Farm. The way was lovely and rolling and full of photographic pastoral scenes. The farm itself was found beyond arches of trees and pretty bridges. In a cozy wooden woodstove-warmed shop we found a welcoming woman who was in the middle of making wreaths from fresh pine boughs. A grumbling engine signalling his arrival, her son scooped us all up for a tractor ride to the back of the property.
We had left it a bit late so our first scan of the tree-spattered horizon revealed very short, scruffy looking specimens. I have only ever known one kind of Christmas tree, but this year a different kind caught my eye. The chubby, long needled pines. They remind me of paunchy old men. One such tree stood out immediately on the path. We passed it by and toured the whole lot but came back to to it in the end. It has a funny gap at the top, a huge girth and so much character. I think it may take over the living room, but it will be a welcome invasion.
And our dinner of choice after a tree-cutting: Waffles! It took hours of hunting through our unpacked stuff to find our waffle maker but it was found and enjoyed. As was Josh's espresso maker, brought along purely for he and I, who alone appreciate a good cappuccino.
Thursday the fancy tree stand we ordered, (thank you Niki), will arrive at our local Home Hardware and we'll set up our chubby old man tree and bedeck it in finery.
