Tree-farm freak-out
Family traditions are not very well established in our household; our oldest is now 8, and over those 8 years, it's been challenging to establish norms and pathways that are age-appropriate for all involved.
Anyways, one tradition that is two years running is the act of hunting for a Christmas tree. We print off a permit, drive up into the forest hills with another family, bring hot chocolate, snacks and saws, and bring home a fresh-scented pine to occupy our home for the season...until it wilts sadly and sheds its needles and gets tossed off the deck in the New Year.
But this year, the friends weren't available, so our forest hills were the Canadian Tire parking lot, where a local tree feller-and-seller fella had set up shop in a fenced-in area with a trailer and a dog and an axe and a beard. We pulled up in the pitch-black night of 5 pm, and emptied ourselves out of the van like the clown-car that we are.
Immediately, we dispersed, finding our preferred trees and asserting seemingly-ra…
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