picking a Christmas tree is kind of a sacred experience for me. Christmas just cannot be Christmas without twinkling lights and the faint smell of pine sap in my living room. It just can't. Anyway, picking a tree out is a big deal and our usual tradition is to do it the Monday after Thanksgiving, but seeing as Steve was going to be out of town we decided to go earlier rather than later (surprise surprise)- even though we had just got in from our cross country flight the night before... priorities.
Truth be told we were all a bit grumpy on the drive over. No fighting, just the I'm feeling sick and tired and jet lagged and "is being out in 34 degree weather really worth it?" kind of grumpy. With the exception of Watson who is always ecstatic at the prospect of mauling strangers with all the happiness barely contained in his rather small frame. But I can honestly say as soon as we stepped onto the lot, all three humans perked way up. It was just what we needed to get into the Christmas spirit.
After meandering through the rows I happened upon the perfect, not too full (Christmas trees in Boston seem to be on the plump side) balsam fir. I knew it was a girl this year, a gut feeling, you know. So we named her Fern, picked up a wreath, strapped her to our hood and set off in a much better mood than we arrived in.
We set to decorating as soon as we got home. She is my favorite tree yet! I went with a sort of loose theme for the first time this year and we love it. Keeping with tradition Steve and I whipped out the air mattress and slept under the twinkle lights for her first night home. Clara blessed us with a 10:30 am wake up call and we brought her down to snuggle and bask in the lights as well. Seeing her in her new outfit made us re-think our initial name choice. We mulled it over and decided she was much more of a "Pearl" than a "Fern" and that was that.
I love Christmas.