the christmas tree: part one, the cutting

Husband works for a large construction company whose CEO owns a Christmas tree farm in the mountains near Boone, NC.

He is a generous man, prone to bouts of philanthropic offerings, and he invited everyone in the company-- several hundred families-- to come out to his farm and cut down a Christmas tree.

It snowed the morning before we made the 2 hour drive, so it was an extremely festive experience. No buildings except a rickety old barn to store farm equipment, no bathroom except trees and bushes, a mountain stream swarming with trout the size of my abdomen, a campfire and bags of marshmallows, and a camping stove with hot water and packets of hot cocoa mix.



We were escorted up the hill by this fine coach and kind chauffeur.

To the acres of fir trees,

dripping with ice and laden with snow.

I was reminded me of one Christmas when my mother and I grew tired of waiting on my dad and brother to go cut down a Christmas tree. So we trekked out into the woods, found a large bush--er, I mean tree-- and axed it down ourselves. It was hard work.

Luckily, our chauffeur was carrying one of these, so it took Husband about 12.5 seconds to conquer and secure our tree.

Can you see the patches of fir trees on the hillside?

Ahhh, and we brought the Khan with us.

He thought we brought him to the place where he would take his throne and live up to his mighty name as universal ruler.

My camera couldn't keep up with him.

And we forgot to bring his food and water bag, so I had to sacrifice my glass of H2O.

And he sat like this in the front seat for the drive home. He usually sleeps in his kennel or the floorboard under my feet.

But this day he was proud. He was regal. He was The Khan in all his glory.

Oh, and I did not understand the invitation very well. I wore these shoes.

And to think, I have a very nice warm pair of Gore-Tex waterproof, insulated, snow-and-mud boots. What was I thinking?!?!?! My toes still feel funny from the frostbite.

To be continued....