The Perfect Tree

Christmas time is here. It is hard to believe another year has passed. I think I'm getting old. I love this time of year. It is a time for draping my house in hundreds of red and green trinkets and about 7 different Nativities, a time for baking not-so-good-for-me sweets, a time for the smell of cinnamon and pine, and also a time for unbridled exhuberance from everyone under the age of 10. (If anyone out there has any tips on how to make my children simply breathe, focus and calm themselves through this month, I'm all ears! Yoga for kids anyone?)

Growing up, my mom always got real trees. Truly, there is nothing better than the feel of real pine needles and mmmmmm, the smell. It says Christmas to me. Todd and I got a real tree our first year of marriage and I assumed that is always how it would be. Then we had a baby, cut our income in half AND bought a home all in the same year. Crazy? Yes we were. The former owners of our first home must not have itemized in their divorce settlement where the fake Christmas tree was going, because it was left in the unfinished basement. For the past 10 years that has been our Christmas tree, not my choice, I might add. Every year I want a real tree. A few of those 10 years we actually took the kids and looked at tree lots, only to walk away empty-handed because sheesh, can you say markup? Who wants to pay $100 for a dead tree that will only be used for 30 days? Never made sense to us on our very tight budget, and especially around Christmastime to spend the extra chunk of change we didn't have. Luckily, we always had our inherited tree from the divorced strangers. Thanks guys.

Well, this year is different. Todd decided about 4 weeks ago, after my very gentle suggestions, that he would wake up at 5:30 a.m., drive out to Heber, pick up a permit for $10 so we can cut down our very own tree. Yeah! Bless you Todd. So, per tradition, we pulled out our Christmas decorations the day after Thanksgiving, after, I might add, a very long, very exhausting morning of Black Friday deal shopping. We knew it was time to set out on our quest to find the perfect tree. Because we were so tired (see above) we got started out later than we had planned, not getting to the mountains until about 3:30 p.m. Not knowing a thing about this process and trying to follow a very vague map, we ended up somewhere near Strawberry Reservoir, driving on a narrow dirt road.

The first about 10 minutes were great, but what was supposed to be a fun, family activity very quickly turned into a "I'm cold/hungry/tired" whine-fest. So much for bonding. I sent Todd out to run around both sides of our dirt path, jumping through the snow, to find a tree that looked halfway decent. Because they grow in clusters, it is hard to find one that isn't bare on one side and is full enough for all our stinking ornaments! I truly wish I had video of Todd in his white jacket dashing and jumping from tree to tree, looking much like a frantic Abominable Snowman. A picture will have to suffice.

Just as we were about to give up hope and lose light all together, I suggested to the kids that maybe we should say a prayer. I knew we needed to find our perfect tree and be guided to it quickly before we lost light. So that's what we did and only seconds after the "amen" Todd's voice crackled on the walkie-talkie, "Uh, I think I found one." We got the car as close as we could (praises to the inventors of 4WD) and took the kids out to the tree, still a good distance away. By this time, the kids were in no mood to wait for dear old Dad to saw away at the surprisingly thick trunk. Poor Todd. Prego wife and 4 kids were no help. I think he nearly passed out trying to use the handsaw to take that tree down. Once down, the kids were by now already in the car, and though my feet were soaked and frozen, I helped him drag the beast to the car, hoist it on top and tie it down. No sooner was the last knot in place then we noticed not even a dull hue remained from the sun. Just in the nick of time.


We got it home and still had to cut several feet off, but once it was up, to us, it is the perfect tree. I still ask Todd if it is something he wants to do again next year. He hasn't given me an answer yet. Dusty, old, inherited tree might be sounding pretty good come this time next year.