We set out in search of a Christmas tree and found a fresh smelling playground. Well we found a tree too because we’re good at that sort of thing here in the North West. South of town, with a coupon for a free tree in hand, we found the tree farm in a neighborhood of tree farms. All we had to do was find our perfect tree, wave down a lumberjack and watch as they cut down and loaded the tree on their 4-wheeler to deliver to our car. Instead of looking for the tree, like Beautiful wanted, the boys and I set out trying to get lost in the rows and rows of trees. First bolted off from Primo and Segundo as they squealed in laughter and tried to keep up. It was harder than I thought to break away in heavy growth, but I soon figured that weaving and doubling back was my best move.
The boys were harder to find when it was my turn to track them down. They could get under the bigger trees and stay surprisingly quiet once they gained some space. Beautiful shook her head at our complete disregard for tree hunting and found the tree her self. Once I located both boys we had to find Beautiful and then get the attention of one of the tree farm workers. We had ventured far off the path in search of just the right tall skinny tree and the game of bringing in the tree cutters took on the feel of Evergreen Marco polo. Primo found the path, Segundo the worker, and it was up to me to get us back through the thicket to Beautiful and the tree.
The tree was cut and dragged out while Primo held up his log slice overhead in celebration. Hot Chocolate and the task of tying the tree to the top of the van while six old timers sat around the fire making fun of me was our reward for a good hunt. The rain held off for our playdate in the forest but picked up on the drive home. It was a good day for bringing home a Christmas tree, and now our living room is more the festive.