Before you read this, be sure you’ve read Our Christmas Tree–Part One.
Eventually, the time came for the Christmas tree stand to arrive at my house. My house, completely decked out with pink and white and Princess decorations for my little girl’s Princess tea party, was not particularly in need of the Christmas tree until then anyway.
So before my in-laws left, they passed along the tree stand. The next day, we killed the 20 or so balloons still strung up along the ceiling and headed to the Christmas tree farm after church.
This farm also has a pumpkin patch in October. With our weird Texas weather, it was considerably colder when we visited for pumpkins–with our homeschool co-op–than on our trek for the tree. A sunny 65 degrees.
Not exactly what I’d pictured for Christmas tree chopping weather.
When we arrived, we were warmly greeted and taken for a hay-ride.
Not a very long hayride.
To the first tree lot. There were two varieties to chose from. Leyland Cyprus, for those with allergies, but with flimsy branches that do not support heavy ornaments, and Virginia Pine–the traditional looking Christmas tree.
We gambled on the Virginia Pine.
Our certificate was for any tree up to 7 feet tall. Most of the ones we liked were 7 1/2 feet tall. We forgot to ask if we could pay for the difference.
We considered perusing the back-lot, but the Man of the House wisely reasoned that if the family was trying to clear off the front lot (as they had told us) and we were getting our tree for free, that we should oblige them by chosing a 7 foot tree from the front lot.
So our search continued.
And then, my girl got excited.
There in the waaaaaaaaay back corner of the field, she found it. This, she informed us, was the tree she wanted.
She’s pretty direct.
Daddy looked it over and agreed, this was our tree.
Apparently, I cannot keep my eyes open.
And then. . .he cut.
The farm supplied us with a terrifically sharp hand saw.
And before I could count to ten,
it was lying on the ground. Who knew it was so easy to cut down a tree?!
How do you like my freakish shadow hanging over the tree?
“Think I could pull it?”
Whoa! She totally could. It wasn’t even difficult.
This was another surprise.
I thought trees were heavy. Apparently not.
We loaded back up onto the hayride. The driver informed me that my husband was superior to most because he let his family get on first and then loaded the tree.
I already knew that.
Then we rode back to the front where we enjoyed complimentary hot chocolate and browsed the gift shop while they shook the daylights out of our tree to get rid of any loose needles and wrapped it up in netting.
Then we loaded–and by we, I mean my husband–it onto the van and drove home.
Tomorrow, I’ll show you how it looks in our house.