Blowing Snow
Indecision. Should we buy a tree here in town? Or do we want to drive up to the mountains and cut one down? Our last attempts were foiled and it seemed to me like the last Sunday to get a tree. Ideally, we would have the tree up and decorated by mid-November in order to enjoy it for six weeks or so. But would it survive that long?
We deliberated and actually fumed over this tree procurement. I'm hoping we've learned some lessons and next year we'll know what we want to do and do it!! Funny thing, what helped us finally make a decision were some friends of ours who spontaneously invited us to hit the mountains Sunday afternoon. No snow in sight...or on the forecast...we were hesitant. But, we decided to go for the adventure.
It started snowing as we pulled up to the tree permit store. By the time we found a place to look, it was blowing cold, wet snow...pretty violently. The kids weren't too excited about it. Peter tried to walk in his new snow boots and found himself slipping and sliding. Riding on daddy's shoulders didn't offer much protection. Mommy could hardly steady herself in the slippery underbrush (wearing tennis shoes). So, we decided to let daddy pick out a tree (putting aside all feminine instincts and desires, of course). He'll pick a good one, I said to myself.
Pictures of the tree he picked MAY follow -- give me a couple of hours with it...
We deliberated and actually fumed over this tree procurement. I'm hoping we've learned some lessons and next year we'll know what we want to do and do it!! Funny thing, what helped us finally make a decision were some friends of ours who spontaneously invited us to hit the mountains Sunday afternoon. No snow in sight...or on the forecast...we were hesitant. But, we decided to go for the adventure.
It started snowing as we pulled up to the tree permit store. By the time we found a place to look, it was blowing cold, wet snow...pretty violently. The kids weren't too excited about it. Peter tried to walk in his new snow boots and found himself slipping and sliding. Riding on daddy's shoulders didn't offer much protection. Mommy could hardly steady herself in the slippery underbrush (wearing tennis shoes). So, we decided to let daddy pick out a tree (putting aside all feminine instincts and desires, of course). He'll pick a good one, I said to myself.
Pictures of the tree he picked MAY follow -- give me a couple of hours with it...