Wednesday, December 3, 2014
When I was a little girl... and all the way til I was married we drove almost two hours to the Ingalls Tree Farm in beautiful Brooklyn Connecticut. My dad, he was picky about our Christmas Tree. All of our friends called our tree "the perfect Sullivan Christmas Tree" And it was... every single year. We drove out, walked through the snow and I watched my Dad cut it down year after glorious year.
When I was little I had never even heard of an artificial tree. Right now as I'm typing I have five of those artificial trees all glistening around our house. I love my artificial trees because I have just the right one for just the right spot. Perfect, year after glorious year.
But a real tree my house must have. And we found ours this past weekend.
When I was a little girl... I can still remember holding the strings of lights for my Dad and walking very slowly around the tree as he strung them. He took a whole day, a whole day to do just the lights. Our growing up trees were so beautiful that I remember asking Scott to come over when we were engaged to watch my Dad do the lights. I wanted my Dad to show him 'just how to do it right.' He learned and he still does the lights my dad's way that sweet husband of mine... year after glorious year.
Except that now we have our own little girls that can take turns walking around the tree holding the lights for a whole day as their daddy weaves them in and out just as my dad did.
I would like to personally thank 'mother nature' for sending a blanket of snow to adorn the tops of the trees and to make it so that our boots crunched as we walked in the snow. I think snow in December is so romantic. (snow in March... not so much!)
After a hot summer I love this weather
As usual Scott and I walk around and around while the girls find little patches of ice to pretend skate on. They play hide and seek. They giggle and laugh, and they think they are helping pick the tree. Year after glorious year.
Right now the tree is in a bucket in our garage. It's too early to put her in our living room. Because she has to be fresh for Christmas morning. Scott will give the bottom another fresh cut right before she goes up sometime next week. Right now I can tell you my whole little garage smells like Christmas heaven.
And so it is the same. Sometimes I make our own traditions. But sometimes a tradition has to stay the same. Year after glorious year.
Handsome and his little girl