The weekend after Thanksgiving, deciding that the ominous weather report was no match for our enthusiasm, a group of us bundled up and headed to Apple Hill for our Christmas trees. Some of us were more prepared than others. (I, maybe, could have bundled up a bit more.) But we all figured that it didn’t matter how hard it rained, we would be victorious in our tree hunt!
And we were. I mean…really.
Is it possible to overly-victorious??
Let me back up.
We started out in two cars for a few different reasons. The kid and I ended up riding with Amy’s family so that the other half of my family could finish up a few things at home. We knew they would only be about a half hour behind us, so we found ourselves at a favorite stop for apple donuts and cider.
Amy and I also found ourselves shopping. For ourselves. Because cozy fingerless glove-arm-warmer things are the business.
Whatever. You would’ve done the same. Pretty sure. (Maybe?)
Once our group was all together, we made our way up to a place I can’t remember the name of to get our tree. Now, I will tell you that it had moved from a sprinkling of rain to “Hey, let’s go ahead and soak these fools while they’re trying to find the perfect tree” kind of rain. Dressed in our jackets and ponchos and armed with umbrellas, we wandered from tree to tree until each family found what they came for: the perfect tree.
Now, obviously, finding the “perfect” tree is completely subjective. Everyone has different opinions about Christmas trees. However, as luck would have it, our families found very similar trees. I thought, “This tree is about the same height as last year’s tree. Maybe a little taller which would be awesome!” because this is what you say to yourself when you’re in the forest looking at trees and comparing them to really big trees that just so happen to LIVE in the forest.
I’m sure you can guess where this is going.
Since we went to a tree farm that charges by TYPE of tree and not the HEIGHT of the tree, our respective trees were wrapped and loaded into our truck without much though about how tall they were. We met up with my family for a quick hello and how-ya–doin” before heading back down the hill.
Wait, I lied. First we stopped by a winery and accidentally tasted a bunch of wine and THEN (eventually) made our way down the hill. (Okay, Amy and I tasted a bunch of wine since we weren’t driving. Because apparently Amy and I are totally selfish and it’s fingerless gloves all over again. Whatever. The End.)
It wasn’t until we were home and dropping off the tree that we realized just how tall our trees might be.
Incidentally, it was just before we got to Amy’s house that we were sitting at a stoplight when the folks stopped next to us waved over at us to get our attention. I don’t remember their exact words (and I’m too lazy to look up the Facebook post) but they basically asked us where we got our amazing trees. I’m not saying they went ape-shit over our trees, but I’m also not going to tell you that they didn’t. I may have acknowledged my intense tree pride all over Facebook. Maybe.
Tree pride or no tree pride, it was at this point in our day that we realized that our trees were frickin HUGE. More than 15 feet tall kind of huge. Like, can’t event set up the tree in the garage to soak up water before putting it in the house it’s so huge.
Or three times the size of my oldest child kind of huge.
It is so big (how big is it?!) that we had to borrow my dad’s A-frame ladder, buy more lights, buy more ornaments and scraped our (vaulted) ceilings getting it in the house. It’s so big that I nearly had a panic attack trying to put lights and ornaments at the top. (Thanks for handling that, Husband. Nervous and sweaty hands do NOT get the job done.) It took a week and a half to get it decorated and it still looks like we need more ornaments. And maybe, just maybe, I pray on a daily basis that our tree stand is woman enough for the job of holding up that beast of a tree so that it all doesn’t come crashing down.
But this tree, you guys.
Our Christmas tree is always one of my very favorite parts of Christmas each year and, good grief, this tree doesn’t disappoint. I can’t even care that we were “overly-victorious” in our tree hunt this year because this tree takes my breath away when I walk into the room. (Or, you know, in any adjacent room because you can see it from anywhere in the house…or two counties over.) It makes me ridiculously happy even at the times when I’ve struggled finding my Christmas cheer or felt overwhelmed by all the things that need to be done. I can’t wait to turn on the lights each day because I am right there, in the moment, thinking about all that is best and wonderful about Christmas.
But I swear to Grinch this thing better stay put. Ain’t nobody got time for crashing Christmas trees.