As I mentioned in a post last week, this year my family, for the first time ever, drove out to a tree farm where we cut down our very own Christmas tree. Since I had never been to a tree farm, my husband (whose family cut down their tree every year at his town’s local tree farm) was our (my) guide for this tree cutting adventure. On the ride to the farm, my husband asked me why I wanted to cut down a tree since, as he calls me, I am a tree hugger. I told him what I told you all here, “I want to reduce Annabelle’s exposure to potentially unsafe chemicals that are in artificial trees . . . and also, I have never cut down a tree before and would like to try it.” His response? “Fair enough.”
We drove and drove, passing through the town’s Main Street and traveling miles and miles beyond it. My husband noted that our carbon footprint was growing and growing on this Christmas tree quest. We considered turning around to retrace our route, when my husband noticed a sign for the farm. As we pulled onto the gravel road for the farm, we noticed a sparse field with just 25 trees or so and only 5 to 10 Christmas tree seekers, like us. I wondered out loud whether the trees might be beyond the ranch style home that was at the end of the gravel drive. Not so. Once we parked and spoke with the farmers, we learned that the farm was in its last year; the good news being that the son of the farmer would continue the family business on another piece of land further away from our town in Northern Virginia. Lucky for us, this year anyway, there were just a few more Christmas trees remaining and we were welcome to go search for ours.
I wish I could tell you that finding our tree was something like when Clark Griswold discovered the Griswold Family Christmas tree and lights from the heavens shone down upon us, but no, it was less climactic than that. Finding our tree went something like this:
“Wow. I can’t believe the trees are so small,” says my husband.
“I think they’re kind of cute.”
“Would you be upset if I suggested going to a farm stand for a pre-cut tree?”
“Noooo . . . ” my voice and hope beginning to drift away. My husband then lends our saw to another tree cutter. My eyes search and search the field until I notice a tree good enough to satisfy my husband’s taste for tall trees. “Uh, what about that one?” I ask him with a bit more hope.
“The one with the satanic horns?”
“No,” I laugh. “The somewhat tallish one behind that one.” A few minutes later we retrieved our saw and got to cutting.

the trees

Annabelle inspects the trees.

my husband cuts down our tree. “Timber!”

Annabelle, my sensitive little girl, worries that the tree is hurt and broken. I had hoped she would feel excited by the experience of finding a Christmas tree, but on another level, I too felt a bit sad that we were “breaking” the tree. I comforted her and tried to reassure her that the Christmas tree would be okay. I for one was happy that our family had spent the day together finding our tree and working together to bring it home.
Below are helpful resources for finding a Christmas tree farm, caring for a Christmas tree as well as how to recycle your Christmas tree.
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{ 3 comments }
Abbie, she certainly was happy when we decorated the tree and put the lights up, although again she worried that the tree was broken when we turned the lights off! =)
Everyday woman, your comment is a reminder to me to date the ornaments that Annabelle painted. Also, we will recycle our tree at a local, historic plantation. I am looking forward to finding out how they repurpose the trees.
I, too, hope that frown turns into a smile when the tree is decorated and gracing your home. What a sweet, sensitive, little girl–but really, a realistic reaction! Too many times, we don’t see the world through a child’s eyes, until we get to experience it first-hand! Thanks for sharing! I’m sure you’ll find a way to recycle the tree into another use after New Year’s–perhaps as home/shelter for animals; strung with popcorn, etc. for birds; or recycled into another use?
How fun! I’m sure Annabelle’s look of worry will be replaced with a smile when it’s up and decorated.
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