A few days ago we gave in to the kids' begging and went into our woods to cut a Christmas tree.
Except for a brief sneeze of snow in November, we've had bare ground so far this winter, and the girls are anxious to capture something of winter by setting up the tree. A week or so earlier, Older Daughter had spotted a likely candidate, so we went to check it out.
It was kind of a funny shape -- spindly on top, bare at the bottom -- but with a nice full middle that would work if it were trimmed. Don cut it near the bottom of the full part, about three feet from the ground.
Then we assigned the girls the (cough) honor of dragging the tree up to the house.
We measured the clearance in the house...
...then measured the tree...
...before trimming it to the appropriate size.
I joked that we're one of the few American families who knows exactly where their tree stand is every year. We've had this tree stand since we've been married.
Clear the decks! Here it comes!
Why is it a tree is always bigger inside the house than outside?
No matter, it's easy to trim.
And since he was up on the ladder anyway, Don put the angel on top.
As usual, Lydia wonders what on earth we crazy humans are doing.
First things first: tie the tree to the banister. Can't have it tipping over!
Then comes the fun part: decorating.
This always leaves chaos in the house, but it's a fun chaos.
We keep most of our Christmas decorations in this large cardboard box. Why this particular box? Well, years ago the kids drew drawings all over it and we absolutely love it. We've had to reinforce the box with tape over the years as it's weakened, but we don't want to ever get rid of it because of all those terrific childish drawings.
By the next day, the tree looked lovely.
I've never lost my childish love for the magical beauty of a Christmas tree.