killing of the trees

Oh Christmas tree... you all look the same to me. I must say going for a tree this year was an experience. While I've been bitching about putting up the faux tree for the past 3 years that I've had the tree... I never imagined I'd be going along to actually CUT down a tree. I envision Chevy Chase in Christmas Vacation where the tree he picks out is twice as high as the living room and so wide it breaks out the windows. We arrived at Bob White tree farm and I thought to myself, Oh my god! We made a wrong turn and we're at a redneck farm for mud wrestling! As I drove up the incline of the hill to park my car in the pit, we stop. In the mud. Hey Jackass! Get off my bumper! I love when people don't think that "hey, maaaybe the car in front of me *isn't* automatic and just *might* roll backwards into me. Ha ha. Lucky for him I managed to not slide. I may have flung a little mud onto passers-by while spinning my tires to avoid an insurance claim but isn't that their fault for walking near a moving vehicle in the mud? I think so. Of course I couldn't be wearing crappy old shoes today. No, that would have been sensible. I have on my black knee high furry Report boots because it's cooooold outside. And GiGi, of course, needs to be carried. She's wearing like new Timberlands. Oh no, they will not get muddy.
While hiking the 8 miles {ok it's not that far but it was a lot of mud to walk through} to the trees, Darrell comments, "I hope those aren't good boots," with a snicker. "Well they aren't now," I replied. I start to walk up to the forest to look at the tree selection when reality hits me in the face. I must get a "tree cart" and a SAW to take with me. Right, the tree won't hop out of the ground on it's own. I walk. And I walk. And I walk {meanwhile being poked by every other tree and yelling at GiGi to "come here!"}. Damnit, they are all starting to look the same. Didn't I just see one over there that I liked a few minutes ago? And oh god. GiGi's nose is running. Nobody has a tissue. Ewwwww my sleeve. {These are the Mommy moments I will treasure}. I decided on a blue spruce at first. My reasoning: it's very prickly and hence, the children and dog will stay away because it hurts to touch it. Secondly, I love the color. Unfortunately for me, I'm either not happy with the shape or the color {some were 2 tone} or both. Then I walk past a douglas fir. Mmmmm there's that Christmas smell. That's it! I look no further. It's cute. Nice full shape, just the right height, and smells great {who knew I came in tree form}. I think Darrell takes pity on me {ok maybe he's just a nice guy} and cuts down the tree.
Then we hike back down the hill to pay for the tree. I had no cash on me before we went so Lori & Darrell offered to pay for my tree until I could tap the ATM. Darrell told me last year the trees cost around $25. Not bad, I thought, that's how much it costs to stop in town and buy a tree. "That'll be $70 sir." $70? $70?!?! For 2 freaking trees?!?! That we cut down ourselves??? What the... Shit. I've been ripped off. I paid $35 for a tree that I ruined boots for and cut down. And I still have to pull that wagon all the way to the car {through the mud}, take the cart back {through the mud}, and walk back to the car {you guessed it, through the mud}. So much for the Christmas experience. I'm sure it's great for some people. I just don't think I'm "some people".
Next year I'll pay my $25 to stand and point and say "I want that one" and have someone get it ready and put it on my car for me. Or if I'm desperate - I'll go back to the faux.
For the effort and $$ involved, this thing better last two years.

♥berlin™