I took this photo last weekend of how people in the city go out to get their tree. We've got tree farms near us that we could visit, and there are big lots where trees are sold. But in the city, this is what you have available.
And you don't want to go too far because you have to get it back to your apartment. And you can't take it on the subway. So you walk. And you keep on walking.
I saw a lot of people lugging their tree down the sidewalk, laughing and I remembered a story my son told me around this time last year.
His roommates and he went out for a tree, stopping at several different tree selling areas along the sidewalk until they finally came to find the perfect tree at the right price. But, alas, now they had to walk it all the way home. Now, Christmas trees are bulky and heavy, so it wasn't easy but he said it was fun. And when they finally got to the apartment, they still had to get it up the stairs. And the whole ordeal took a long, long time.
Well, I just read an excellent story over at Woman In A Window, in which she writes about the acquisition of her own tree. And the opposities are so profound that I had to share.
Hers includes a journey through a huge forest, complete with deep snow and chainsaws. I was entranced.
This weekend, I hope to get our own tree and find the ornaments and get some holiday cheer going on in this house. I've got a faculty party to attend tomorrow evening and a dish to make for that. Oh, and a gift to buy for the dirty Santa game we always play.
What are you up to this weekend?
Until tomorrow, my friends . . .