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Tree Cutting Fever
When my teenager was a toddler I got the grand idea in my head that driving an hour or more to a Christmas tree farm and cutting down our own tree would be a wonderful family tradition. Now that she is sixteen I have cause to realize how this has come back to bite me in the butt. Sure, it’s nicer to have a fresh tree. The house smells like real pine and I don’t have to worry about it drying out as quickly. We get the experience of picking the right one straight from the source. And, honestly, when my girls were smaller it was just a lot of fun. So, let me tell you about our experience last year.
The week after Thanksgiving I was very proud of myself for finding a Christmas tree farm within twenty minutes of our house. Their prices were a little higher than the others but I reasoned that I’d save that in gas. I loaded up my family of six, with the younger two girls excitedly hopping in their seats and the older two girls grumbling under their breath, and we headed out. Apparently we chose the day everyone else wanted to get their tree as well. Parking was tight and there were people everywhere.
If you’ve never been to a Christmas tree farm, the way it works is you’re given a saw, a rope contraption to drag the tree back, a measuring stick and a price list. We gathered our supplies and jumped on the hayride type wagon that drives a circuit around the farm. Thirty minutes after hopping off of the wagon we hadn’t found a tree that would pass the girls’ scrutiny and fit into my budget. An hour later I finally called a halt to our wandering around and said it was time to go.
We were all disappointed but I coaxed them into sitting with the Santa, present on his throne, for pictures. Everyone was hungry so we headed to a fast food restaurant for lunch. There in the parking lot sat Walmart in all its shining glory. Hubby said “What the hell”, and we went into the garden center. Not only did everyone agree on three different trees, my checkbook was singing its praises too. We got our tree and a few trimmings and headed home.
So, this year I think we will finally skip the farm trip all together. It’s nice to have traditions that I can pass down to my girls, but I don’t want them to remember the stress of the holidays as well. A few months ago I introduced the idea of buying a fake tree while we ate dinner. I was vigorously and unanimously outvoted. We’ll just have to see what happens next year.
*Make reading a guilty pleasure…*
Ms. Missy Jane is the alter ego of a Texas mother of four who has been married to the same wonderful man for thirteen years. About five years ago Missy finished reading a book by Mercedes Lackey and thought "Now, what if..." and a monster was created. Missy now spends most of her time lost in worlds of her own making alternately loving and hating such creatures as vampires, shape-shifters and gargoyles (to name a few). When not writing, she spends her time reading, taking photos of her beautiful daughters and training her husband to believe she's always right. Excerpts from Missy's work can be found at www.msmissyjane.com.