For some reason, I have it in my head that a Christmas tree that we stalk ourselves and then cut down is somehow better than a tree purchased pre-cut. For that reason, I drag my husband (and now young son) out every holiday to freeze, while trying to hold a hacksaw. It’s a delightful holiday tradition that I’m sure Jamisen + unborn sibling will thank me for one day. More realistically, they’ll thank their father who does all the heavy lifting and cutting. Either way, it’s all about holiday happiness.
We decided that we didn’t need to walk all the way to the back to get the ‘best’ tree and that we’d be able to find a great tree in the front row. And, somehow, when we found the ‘perfect’ tree in the front row, we just had to keep walking. It was almost like it if wasn’t hard to find, it wasn’t somehow ‘good.’
Well, after traversing the entire tree farm multiple times, we made it back to the front row where we figured out a dirty little tree farm secret: all the trees up in the front rows have been manicured within an inch of their little tree lives so they look more attractive than the average tree from the road. Thus, we happily found our perfect tree and claimed it as our own.