Rockin' Around the Christmas Tree

Goodness, the Christmas season is keeping me "busy, busy, busy" as Professor Hinkle would say. Thus, the cobwebs on my blog for a season. Now, before I get a few words (or so) in about our Christmas tree, I must first ask you to stop by sweet Becky's blog, Blessed With Olive Plants Around My Table, and read up on her,..well, you'll just have to trust me. Need a good laugh? Then just head over there. She'll deliver, I promise.

Okay, so. Yesterday we cut down our Christmas tree. We saw the pricing list and knew we wouldn't be paying for a Blue Spruce or a Douglas or Fraser Fir. Because, um, OUCH! Just couldn't justify the additional cost. So the tree guy pointed us in the direction of the Charlie Brown trees and off we went. It didn't take long before Carl was sharpening his forestry skills and admiring a particular group of trees.

"These are nice. We should be able to find something here."
"Yeah, but honey, I think those are spruce. No, maybe they're not blue spruce, but what if they're one of those, you know, fir trees? I don't want to get the wrong one."
"Well, I'm sure this isn't blue spruce and I don't think it's a fir either."
(Toni, doubtfully) "Hmmm! I dunno."

Back and forth we debated until I came up with a brilliant solution (hold on, you're gonna love this.) I found a lone bough lying in the snow, picked it up, handed it to Carl and said, "Go ask the tree man what this is."
You knooow I got "the look." But, realizing we had talked ourselves into complete confusion, Carl was off and back in no time.

White spruce.

We chopped down a white spruce. Fat little bugger too. After we hollered our annual, "Timber!", the kids took a candy cane off the Christmas tree in the little cottage where we paid. Reece said, "This candy cane, when I open it mama,....when I eat it, do you want a lick?" Now how could I resist a lick of my 6yo's sticky, messy, licked up Christmas candy cane? Really, it's those very moments of childhood that slip through our fingers like the watercolor ponies Wayne Watson sang about that I'll miss most.

The kids had such a blast decorating the tree today. Our annual tradition includes playing Randy Travis' Christmas CD while decorating. No, we're not big country music fans, but we used to be (back in the Garth Brooks, Randy Travis era.) So, Randy crooned while I attempted to put the lights on. Don't even get me started on how many times I wrapped and unwrapped, wrapped and unwrapped, wrapped and unwrapped those branches in lights.

Clockwise and counter clockwise.

Circles and dizziness for the better part of 30 minutes. And Carl has pine sap allergic reactions so he couldn't take over. Though I must say, I was close to handing him a shot of Benadryl with a smile and a cheering section. I did finally get the lights on. And gee, it only took one, two, three, four passes. Oh, I sooo wish I could tell you I'm kidding, but truth be told, it took four stinkin' rounds of "Put 'em on, take 'em off," before I got it right. I also spent the next hour quickly vacuumed any fallen needles from the carpet. All together now. "JOY TO THE WORLD!"


Our fat tree (complete with town and nativity underneath).













My Olivia doesn't build snowmen. No, Octopus is much more fun. She even used pinto beans for suction on the tentacles.






Poor Cierah had some challenges to overcome. Click on the image to note her puppydog eyes and bootless foot.






Nothing says trouble like a 6yo boy with a snowball in his hand.









My little monster man.













We're a serious bunch, we are.

Toni