That’s right, hunting for trees. Sort of like hunting for deer, but with a saw and not a gun. First of all, you pack all of those kids (they are mostly grown but still kids) into the car. You drive them into the mountains in your four wheel drive SUV, with tree permit of course, to begin the hunt for the perfect Christmas tree.
Sure there are trees all along the road. There is a good one, but wait there is a gap in the back. Oh look over there, that one is perfect. Yet at a closer inspection, the branches are just too sparse. The kids run from tree to tree exclaiming, “This is the one!” Only to be disappointed by the lack of branches or hole somewhere on the tree.
Our puppy doesn’t care though. She runs from tree to tree with the kids just happy to be out in the snow. Each leap buries her in white powder. Oh to be a puppy and experience that joy.
The day wears on and we trudge from mountain top to mountain meadow when finally there it is. The perfect tree glows with a Griswold family Christmas type light shining from above. This will be our tree. This tree will fill our home with the Christmas Spirit. Let us sing in joyful praise that we have found the “perfect” tree. The tree above all other trees. Hallelujah!
We appoint Grant as the official tree cutter because he is the only man child on this trip. He does a masterful job in sawing this tree down and then drags it to the family car. We then attempt to tackle the artful task of tying the tree to the roof so it does not blow off on our long journey home. Many supervisors were involved in this process. It only takes a few ropes and finally there we have it, our beautiful tree. All ready for the drive home to make our holiday bright.
Now we come to the most important part of the day: the obligatory family picture. What a great adventure! Next: let’s get the lights and decorations on that tree. Oh my family hates that I am aperfectionist in the lighting department.