Every year, we head into the mountains to get our tree that becomes the center of our holiday merry-making. I have great memories from my childhood of doing this very thing with my family...following an saw-toting father into the forest, everyone spying the tree they loved best and then having to concede to just one (usually my mother's favourite). As an adult, I have been open to different tree traditions, from growing my own to decorating a branch...even abstaining altogether in a very unremarkable and humbug early 20s anti-Christmas rebellion.
And just like that, full circle, I find my own young family trudging into the woods, following my own mountain man of a husband with his own saw. And just like that, my oldest jokingly points to a Charlie Brown twig as his choice, my daughter wants to saw away like her big brother, and my littlest gapes at the silliness unfolding.
This year, the three littles decorated the tree with Huckley hanging the unbreakables on the lower branches (ok, he really put them all on just one branch), Sunshine worked away in the middle, while Forrest took charge of the upper tree. I hung a few blown glass treasures from friends, but they did the real work...if you can call it that!
I handspun a little merino wool for a fingerknit garland to adorn the tree. Whoever feels like it can just sit down for a few moments and add to the chain. I hope to add some red felted balls to it over the holidays, too.