Tuesday, November 30, 2010

The Forest

We don't cut our Christmas tree down ourselves.  That sounds great, but we'd rather spend the time it would take to cut it down INSIDE our house decorating the tree.  So we head to the forest that is Pike Nursery. Welcome to our forest.

Once in the forest we scatter. Not on purpose, mind you, because I'm a control freak and like to know where everyone is and what they're doing at all times. Them not being in my line of sight causes me great angst.  Here go the kidlets in search of the ellusive  "perfect" Christmas tree. 

The perfect tree for us should be fat and tall.  We have a tall ceiling in our living room. I like the tree to fill it up. Plus, since my husband is really really tall, having a short Christmas tree makes him seem like the Jolly Green Giant.  
Not that he's green or anything.

The bin of ready-made wreaths.  I especially like the mixed-green variety.  I buy one of those and some mixed-green garland for my front door.  It makes me feel like I'm doing the au naturel decorating thing.
I doubt my house looks au naturel.  It probably looks pretty plain next to my neighbor's houses with their lights on the bushes and colorful decorations.

I can see my husband rolling his eyes now.  He wants me to let you know it rained the day he was going to put the lights on the bushes and it  is still raining.  Rain = no lights. 
It's okay, honey.  The lights will be here when it dries out. Then we won't be the dark house in the neighborhood.

It was about 65 degres when we went shopping for our tree in the forest. Too warm for Pike's to be serving hot cider, but just right for candy canes. That is what you get when you buy 21 feet of mixed green garland, a mixed green wreath and a 8-9 foot Christmas tree.  A candy cane.

For free. 

1 comment:

  1. Enjoyed reading about your adventure of getting a tree. It's one of my favorite parts of Christmas. My husband is tall too(6'4') but we don't have high ceilings so we are limited. I can totally relate to being a control freak when it comes to knowing where the kids are....parking lots making me crazy.