Scouting for feel good memories as I combat my Grief monster. Keeping him and his dreary personality at bay I came up with this from my husband and mine’s first Christmas together. Back ohhh about 44 years ago.
The first year we were married I decided it would be great fun to cut down our own Christmas tree. To say my husband was not handy is an understatement but he agreed to go. It was a cold frosty winter’s day in Buffalo and we set out to a local Christmas tree farm. My husband was carrying a small hatchet and was as usual not dressed properly. He had no boots on, a light jacket and that was about it. I found the perfect tree and my husband gazed skeptically at it thinking it may be too big. I immediately replied it was just the right size and he pointed out to me that these trees look smaller when surrounded by 12′ trees. I insisted this was the one I wanted and he chopped it down with his hatchet. Now mind you I am saying hatchet not axe or saw so this took quite a bit of time. I can picture him now swinging it wildly and swearing at the same time. He finally chopped it down, tied it to the top of the car and home we went. We carried it up to the apartment and it barely fit through the door. There was no way it could stand straight up as it was way too tall. “Yes I was right.” my husband grumbled and pulled out his trusty hatchet. He shaved a good 2′ off the tree and up it went. One of the things we did not notice out in the forest was that my perfect tree had a decided kink in the trunk. The next challenge was getting it straight in the stand. The swearing continued and we finally got it up right. As I type this I find myself chuckling. My husband promised this was the Last year he was cutting down any tree and indeed it was!