Stalking the Wild Scotch Pine

(With apologies to Marie Javins for playing off her title, Stalking the Wild Dik Dik, available at Amazon.)

Yesterday afternoon, we stalked out into the hills to the local Christmas tree farm to hunt down this years victim. The local farm, Pieropans, has a policy of live cutting, showing visitors how and where to cut the tree of their choice, so that it stays alive. As a result, within two years, the tree is as good as new, and ready for another cutting. It's a great place, where we can feel good and environmentally responsible about getting a live tree. (After Christmas, the decomposing tree goes to the woods at the edge of our property, providing shelter and wind barrier for wildlife, and all that other earthy-crunchy good stuff.)

The tree farm is on a large hill that seems to go almost vertical. We like a big tree, so we usually end up stalking pretty far up the hill, where the trees have not yet been taken. The boys love "adventuring" far ahead through the brush, stalking the perfect tree. Of course, the higher we go, the longer the trek back to the car with the fallen tree, and the bigger the tree, the bigger the strain on Daddy :-/.

We each take turns picking the tree. Two years ago, it was Big T's turn, last year my turn, and this year, Mommy's turn. Next year, Lil'T's turn. Everyone has their own clear ideas of the perfect tree. The farm features Blue spruce, Fir and some Scotch Pine. Scotch pine, with it's long soft needles, is my perennial favorite (though somehow when it was my turn to pick last year, we didn't end up with one). Lil'T is developing a taste, similar to his Mom's, for short needle Fir. Tristan is sticking with Dad in preference for a Scotch Pine.

This year we were successful about a third of the way up the hill. There we found a perfect specimen at a perfect height (counting in the space that we need to leave for the tree to re-grow). It's taller than me, but not taller than me with Big T on my shoulders (for the all important star placement. Not so tall that it scratches the ceiling. Not so large that I need to check major medical coverage before hauling it back down. It has a bad side, as all natural trees will. Good to go.

We marked the tree with purple ribbon that the kids had created earlier this afternoon, with their names and requests to leave the tree for us. Big T opted for gentle persuasion, asking kind observers " Please don't take our tree." Li'l T went for the direct approach, "No taking our tree! No No No No No No No No No No." We'll be lucky if the ribbons are still there in a week.

We'll run back next weekend to do the cutting, if we can talk Mom into it. She wants to wait 2 weeks, until just before Christmas. I don't think the three of us could stand that. Before we moved on, we posed for pictures with our tree-to-be. I took some shots of Jan, and she took the camera to get some shots of me with the boys for posting here. Just as we were posing, I leaned back to get closer to Li'l T, and the branch behind me gave way, tumbling the three of us into the underbrush. Of course, that's when she snapped the shot.

Some people complain that Christmas seems to start too soon after Thanksgiving, or that it's moving up even earlier. Some believe that the holiday should be relegated to 24, or even 12 days, and be promptly over at New Years. WHile I'm no fan of Christmas lights in May, I happen to think that playing Christmas music in November is fun. We pulled out the Chipmunks well before the turkey. Christmas can't be spread out too much for my taste. The world needs every reminder and excuse for Joy that it can get.

Happy Holidays!