"how 'bout this one?"

Ahhhh the Christmas Tree Farm.

Every year, usually on opening day, Gregg and I trek out to Leyden's Tree Farm to tag our one-of-a-kind Christmas Tree. They opened this past Saturday and we continued our tradition. I sort of cornball it up by shuffling a playlist on my ipod of holiday favorites while we take the twenty minute ride. When we come to the driveway I always laugh at the sign because it says "Big John's" and for some reason I find that hilarious. We pull into the lot and find our parking space. This time Gregg accidentally hit my elbow with the door of the Jeep so that made for a memorable entrance as I flailed around laughing at the top of my lungs. Like I have mentioned before, graceful and elegant, I am not. We walked past the Tim Horton's trailer and I, of course, remarked "mmmm coffeeeee" while Gregg said "I want a coolata" ... random. We made our way to the little hut o' farm employees for our tag. The line was super short to my amazement. We received our tag in exchange for a coupon and some loot and with tag and ribbon in hand we set off to hunt down our pine.

 The weather could not have been more perfect. It was just chilly enough for me to state that I should have worn a warmer shirt and gloves but warm enough for me to enjoy a light vest. Gregg asked if I was going to take my sunglasses off and I was curious about that. We were outside. It was bright out. I could see the trees just fine. Does he hate my sunglasses? What gives? It's not like we are in the grocery store and I have them on while carrying my dumb, tiny dog in a $5400 bag. Hmm. (Okay, I will admit that I occasionally keep them on when shopping simply because it is comfortable and I feel like I am undercover). Anyway, we walked through various fields of trees joining the other hunters in saying "how 'bout this one?" twenty times over. I wondered if trees could think would they be pissed about the repetition. I know I would. We found a bunch of great looking possibilities but they were either too short, too tall, too bare, too full, too skinny, too fat or just friggin' dead. Some even had spiders in them. Instant no-no.

Finally though, we did find our 2009 champion. Persistence pays off. Gotta keep a sharp eye out and really visit each row, sometimes twice. Gregg tied the tag onto our extremely sharp-needled, painful tree and we headed back to the hut to record our field and row number.

 

 

I contemplated entering the coloring contest but ultimately decided against it. Satisfied with our selection, we drove away smiling. Actually, I think we were laughing at a conversation we overheard in the parking lot... but either way - it was a great experience as always.