As evidenced by my earlier post, I like my trees white, pink or black and faux. It works well for my personal style. I asked my frequent male companion if he was going to get a tree this year. He answered in the affirmative. I suggested Ikea and he said, ‘Why wouldn’t I go cut down my own?’ You see. He’s from the midwest. And there, apparently, you go and cut down your own Christmas tree. What a novel idea! I was game.
I remember two years in a row my mom and I got a free tree on Christmas Eve from the abondoned tree sales lot. I don’t know that I’ve ever paid for a tree never mind left the City limits looking for one. So, on Saturday a group of us went to the country, err *county* to cut down some trees.
Turns out there is a lot of walking when looking for the ‘perfect’ tree. Perhaps, dare I say, it’s like hiking?
And walk some more.
And evaulate and compare different trees.
Finally, you settle on one tree (when truthfully the three ‘contenders’ look the same)
And it must be cut.
Not with power tools. But, a hand saw. Unless you choose to ignore the rules…
And the tree comes down.
I did initially help with the carrying of the tree. I mean truthfully, I felt my role was to document the process. And to insert my will over color schemes. But, apparently, I didn’t do a very good job with the carrying.