Now, it is well known that I am not an Uber-Mom. I don't bake stuff, I don't take Mommy and Me Thai dancing classes, and god knows the few times I have visited the park the other Moms stayed FAR away from me.
Christmas, however, seems to bring out something primal in me. There are urges. And these must be listened to - for the good of the whole family.
The main urge? A ridiculously large tree. That - if possible- we must hunt and cut ourselves.
For comparison purpose, I present the tree of 2005:
Please note that we had cathedral ceilings and that this originally 12 footer (ok, maybe closer to 15) had no problem occupying the space once modified to a modest 10.5 feet..
It was a lovely time, back then. We would saunter out to the tree farm in October, choose, tag and pay for our chosen tree. Get a free organic pumpkin. December would arrive and we would drive up the hill to the tree farm to retrieve our temporary member of the family. All for about 30 bucks! For a fresh, just cut balsam!
2006 arrives and we are at a loss. We now live in a city and have no idea how people procure their trees. What to do?
Go down to the florist on the corner and pick this specimen....
Now truth be told, I wasn't THAT satisfied with this tree. It wasn't fresh and the needles dropped everywhere. Plus, we paid 60 bucks for it, which Terrance was having FITS about. The damn thing Barely made it through Christmas with needles intact. Oh, and it too was big. Really big. But it has a nice shape. And it too is Balsam. But the joy of watching Terrance struggle to cut the trunk and then drag it through the snow to our car?
So THIS year, I made it my year long task to find a tree farm around Montreal. I mean, good LORD, these people pride themselves on being farmers - there has GOT to be a fresh tree farm somewhere, right?
And I did it. I found a Tree Farm about 25 minutes from our house.
WHOO- HOO!!! I get a fresh tree! My tradition continues!
Except that here, the "idea" of a tree farm is quite different from my American version of the tree farm. In fact, this is a story which will be told in the coming days - but suffice to say for NOW that the feeling of "let them grow free and wild" seems to be the overriding mantra. A live and let live philosophy, if you will
cause this is what we came back with:
I had to mercilessly hack off over two feet from the top to get it to stand up in the house. The thing is a wild beast in our house.
LOOK AT IT! You can't look away, can you? I am waiting for some hoary beast to emerge and eat the cat.
Look at the trunk:
Do you see the normal, human sized bookcase in the back? Do you see the massive, monster trunk in the foreground? What you can't see is the 4th tree shooting off the back. Yes. 4 trees in one.
In my defense, it didn't look as big in the field, and it was the nicest tree we found.
And the house smells really, really nice.
Now, let me go give Terrance his pain pills with the shot of bourbon.