We had to find a new tree farm this year, but the good news is this one had snow to set the mood (a little, anyway). We didn't quite have the "lay of the land" at this one, though, and the actual tree part of it was a little less yuppified. I mention that, because we got the idea in our head (I blame Kristen, but it may have been my idea) to
walk to find a tree. One LONG walk later, we finally got to one. A lot of the close trees had been attacked by deer, so they just said to "Look at the top parts of the tree, and if you like it, just chop it off 6 feet off the ground."
Uh, how about no.
But alas, we finally found the perfect tree. It was a little bit shorter than we (read: Kristen the Chirstmas Elf and her junior elves Tate and Quinn) were accustomed to due to our 8-foot ceilings in our rental house, but we found one that used up every last one of those 72 inches. And it was fat, because the Head Elf (Kristen) says a fat tree is a good tree.
And just to be Christmas-tree-hunting purists, I drug the sucker all the way back myself. So there. It was 5 miles if it was 1.
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