Weird follows us where e'er we go

It has been a long week and we figured we needed some sort of fun activity for this evening. Since it is December 1, what better time than tonight to go get a tree? We have had, as I suspect most people have, varied experiences with getting trees. When we were newlyweds, we usually went to Lowe's or the local nursery. As the children have come along, we have tried to make it a more memorable experience....just like picking a pumpkin at Halloween. We have driven to hell and back trying to find unique tree experiences. Being Frasier Fir people, we pay a premium regardless of where we go in our area. NC is the closest place where they actually grow, so we are at the mercy of the dealers. We have tried to break our FF habit, but to no avail. So with that in mind, we have gone to several places where the owners think they can convert us to Pine and Spruce people...luring with us with hot chocolate and turns at using axes and chainsaws. We have driven into places and prayed our way out, either because the terrain was rough or the area was sketchy(more on that in a minute). When my parents had a country house in Blacksburg, VA, their next door neighbors were horticulture professors who had a Christmas Tree farm on their property. When we went up for Thanksgiving, we made a trip down the road and had the whole experience. We named our particular type of tree, rode a wagon out there, picked our favorite, B chopped it down and then we got hot chocolate and cookies. We had the full set of scientific directions for the proper care of said tree. Wonderful! Then we had a couple years of the various lots or overpriced nurseries. Then, two years ago, our lives were changed forever. B found a "tree farm" online and they had FF trees, so we were up for an adventure. It was in the East Knoxville area near the zoo, so we headed out. You know you are in for a real experience when the GPS no longer registers your location and your animated vehicle looks like it is flying in the clouds. When we got there, oh were we in for a treat. The gift shop was manned by, forgive my description, two people who belonged in Deliverance. The gifts were from circa 1982 Big Lots or Dollar General, covered in dust with their original 1982 prices on them. Brian asked about the trees, which prompted a longwinded explanation of how the farmer tried to grow F Firs and how we just don't have the climate for the and he lost thousands of dollars on little failed seedlings. About this time, a barefooted feral 5 year old girl rode up driving an ATV of some sort. At this point, after seeing all of this plus the following picture, B gave me the "Let's pick a tree and get the &/$; out of here" look.

Yes, this was at a Christmas Tree farm(picture from my friend Denise who also had the experience). After all of this,the F Firs were unceremoniously kept in a small, locked dog run across the road from the gift shop.we got the tallest, plumpest and most affordable one we could find....practically threw the money at them and were off before the children had much time to ask a lot of embarrassing questions out loud. Longing for the days of normalcy, we went back to Lowe's last year and got a perfectly acceptable tree. This year we wanted to get one as soon as possible, so we chose to go night hunting. This eliminated the aforementioned Tree farm for a whole bunch of reasons, probably the biggest being my youngest's severe diarrhea of the mouth malady. We wanted to get out alive and his strange and unfiltered questions could make for a slippery slope. We ventured to the tree lot across from our grocery store. We had successfully obtained trees from them before, so what the hey. A virtual Frasier Fir wonderland it was. We were a sight: the kids on super hyped up mode, drunk with the Christmas spirit and the smell of tree and B, in his cargo shorts, Batman tshirt and vest. I looked my usual self, jeans, Chucks and a fleece. Now, to be fair, I started the kids up by reenacting one of my favorite scenes from "A Christmas Story":

I know, you can't take me anywhere. We found our tree fairly quickly and waited for the man to come take us through the process. I am not a small person so I can say this, the man was a bit on the round side, very friendly and pleased with the traffic at his lot. Dragging our tree the 30ft to their little trailer and bagging area, he set the tree down, started breathing labored breaths and grabbed his chest. B was rerunning CPR training through his mind and the man kept saying he needed to catch his breath before continuing on. His wife thought B was crazy for wearing shorts and said so often. After the tree was wrapped in the netting, Brian, fearing for the man's heart, dragged the tree to the car. Tree guy got winded again trying to assist in the placing of the tree on top of the van. He then ordered his wife to help B tie the tree on while he helped a very affluent lady in her Merecedes load a Norway Spruce into her car. The wife forgot about helping B and was handing candy canes out to random people. B said, "That man is so drunk. I'm afraid he won't make it back to his trailer.". All of a sudden I heard the word "gun". My ears perked a little. The Mercedes woman left...I heard "gun" again. The man then got over to B and asked, "Do you have a gun so you can shoot me?". Well, the look on B's face was priceless, the children went ashen and I fought the urge to laugh out of my discomfort. B assured him that all he had was a small pocket knife. This seemed to not be the answer Tree man wanted, so he wished us a Merry Christmas and was on his way. This just proves, once again, that our family can do nothing in a normal way. I really love that, I think.