the Christmas tree farm

We drove an hour each way to our favorite tree farm to find the perfect tree last weekend. I use the term “perfect” quite loosely because the description I gave the kids and Caleb included the words “with scraggly branches sticking out” and “a big hole near the back so I can push it closer to the wall”. Okay, so our idea of a perfect tree is a little different than most.

As we climbed in the truck and started the drive we talked about how fun it is to have Christmas traditions. I guess at some point you’ve done December enough times to know what works and what doesn’t and suddenly you find yourself repeating the previous year and before you know it you have a tradition you didn’t even plan.

I always secretly wonder if the drive to the tree farm is going to be worth it when we are surrounded by precut tree lots on every corner and could easily invest less time. And then we get there and Caleb is ambushing the kids as they hide between the rows, giggling to give away their positions. I locate the owner’s wife and we talk like old friends. We see each other just infrequently enough to make it necessary to reintroduce ourselves, but she remembers Jack and Jon and greets them by name.

And then there’s this donkey. We like him because he pretends to like us just so we’ll shovel him full of food.

This year we found the “perfect scraggly tree with a nice back hole” sandwiched in a grove of enormous conifers.

Our 2013 tree.