Tomorrow, my little family will set out on our annual hunting expedition. We'll go armed with warm clothing, sharp implements and keen eyes for picking out the perfect specimen.
I like to do things the old fashioned way.
Sure you get buy them at the supermarket, the gas station or many vendors who dot the streets at this time of year. Somehow, going out and wrestling the thing with your own bare hands just adds to the experience. A little snow on the ground only adds to the festive feel.
Nope, Deer season is over. Now it's Christmas Tree season.
Living here in Vermont, there's no shortage of tree farms that cater to the 'cut it yourself' crowd. Searching row upon row of potential candidates adds to the excitement of finding that pine with the perfect symmetry, right height and correct degree of bushiness. There follows some crawling around on the ground, pruning of lower limbs and general huffing and puffing as the bow saw is put to use toppling the lucky winner.
At this point one realizes that it's a half mile uphill back to the car, dragging an 80 pound conifer. It's all good exercise, right ?
Still, nothing beats the aroma of a real pine tree at Christmas. We've never had a fake one, and I just cannot imagine they're the same. Not only is the smell different, but where's the fun in dragging a dusty old box out of the attic every year ?
Give me the thrill of the hunt anytime.
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