Simplicity and the Holidays

So Ma & Pa didn't seem very much in the festive mood when I rolled into town in the eco-mobile a few days ago. It was thrust upon me to hunt the back 40 to find the tree to cut down this year. After some searching, I realized there was nothing close to being an option. We're talking weaker than a Charlie Brown tree-slim pickens. Plus sawing into a 2 year old spruce would cause a puddle of sap on my mother's den floor that would get me no praise. So I headed off to the local farm (I had every intention of finding a charity lot somewhere but figured supporting a local farm was a fair trade off.) Arriving at the farm tree man hooked me the minute I got out of the car, pointing out the live trees. I'm a sucker for a tree. After peeking at the cut trees, I couldn't justify buying something that was killed just for sake of tradition. So I slapped down the platinum card for the live tree and now it resides at the manor. Parental units not too keen on the prospect of transplanting come spring, being that it took 3 of us to get it out of the borrowed truck and into the house—and not very gracefully at that. (it and it's pot of dirt weigh over 120 lbs. and the diameter of the root ball is about 5 feet wide, and 2 feet deep.) Here it is, all decorated and festive, our little Fraser Fir (I have named him Bruce, every tree needs a good name) I like how the Fraser Fir looks two-toned, green on the top of the needles and white on the bottom. Two trees in one!