`Tis the year of our very first Christmas tree of married life! Growing up, Dad insisted on a real tree each year and its a tradition I both adore and have every intention of continuing. From the hunt for the exemplary tree, our home enveloped in the finest fresh pine smell to stringing the red and white lights and filling the spaces between branches with teddy bears it was a quintessential and cherished part of my childhood. As we have a house of our own now, two Christmas trees would be required this year.
After Mom and I returned home from the early morning Black Friday shopping, we shook some boys from their beds, bundled up, and headed out to the Christmas tree farm. We hung out with the tree farm mascots, posed for some pictures, admired the homemade wreaths, agonized over the perfect Christmas tree, and were entertained by Justin and Cameron’s race to cut down their respective trees the fastest. Sampson was mystified by the tree inside our house; I’m head over heels for the West Elm pom-pom tree skirt and the red and white lights that pay homage to my parents.
O Christmas Tree indeed!
