Saturday, December 02, 2006

Christmas Tree Adventure

Saturday was to be dedicated to getting our Christmas tree. Not just any old tree on the side of the road...but a "get out the chainsaw and go cut your own" kind. Envision the Norman Rockwell Saturday Evening Post with the family cutting down a Christmas tree then bringing it home to decorate. Hot cocoa, fresh baked christmas cookies, Bing Crosby playing in the background as we all gather 'round the tree. Maybe one year that will but us, but not yet.

Friday night Mom went to a Christmas party with the town's "mom group". Dad expected her home by 10 maybe 11pm. Nope. She swayed homed around 1am. Enter 6am Saturday morning. Charlotte crying in her room ready to start her day. Dad got up to get her and take her downstairs so mom could rest up (mom didnt move an inch). By 10am mom was finally up but had a touch of the Holiday Party Flu that seems to afflict so many people this time of year. After Charlottes nap we were finally able to head out to go pick out a tree. We all piled in the car (dogs included). Dad brought his chainsaw (just incase it was a big one). We drove down bumpy dirt roads in the back woods of New Hampshire. Mom yelling at dad for driving to fast (the curves were making her feel sick...sure mom). We finally made it to the Christmas tree farm. Three small fields of what looked like already decorated Christmas trees. Damn taggers. All of the trees over 5 feet tall were tagged with ribbons, garland, name tags, whatever crap people could find. Dad wondered looking, hoping to find a suitable tree to bring home. None. He contemplated taking the tag off someones tree, but realized this would be really bad Karma and very un-Chrimstmas-like. So he got back in the car and drove with mom to find another place. Luckily he didn't have to drive far.

Enter cut your own tree place number two. This was even smaller and what seemed to be someones back yard. However as we pulled up to the lot we could see lots of trees and only a few tags!! We were off! Dad grabbed the dogs, mom grabbed Charlotte and we started walking. And walking. And walking. Finally Charlotte found one. She pointed and started smiling. This was our tree. It was the right height, full but enough bare spots for ornaments, and fresh. Dad using his buff muscles cut the tree down in record time. He also carried it himself back to the car. He is very strong.

The ride home Charlotte cried. It is very difficult to enjoy listening to Christmas music with a child screaming in the background. Mom was still fighting the Christmas party flu. The dogs were freaking out because of the sound of the tree on the roof of the car. It seemed like a long ride home.

But we made it. Dad got the tree up. He got the lights on. Then it was the girls turn to do the rest. Mom graciously put the new plastic shatter-proof ornaments on the tree. Charlotte kept trying to eat the lights. Mom was not very happy that she couldn't put her favorite fragile glass that shatters into a million tiny peices so your daughter can cut her fingers and mouth ornaments on the tree. It still looks nice, but is lacking the "ornament history" that we enjoy so much. Charlotte even picked up an ornament and tried to put it on the tree herself. She is getting so big.

So here it is folks. The tree and the decorations that mom put up before she had to go back to bed to sleep off her hangover flu.



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