So we go on a Christmas tree expedition on Sunday.
BAH.
HUMBUG.
I LOVE Christmas, but I just wasn't into the whole tree thing this year. Could have something to do with the fact that I already decorated at the store or that Todd leaves right after Christmas every year for an event that leaves me taking down all the decorations myself. Either way, I just wasn't into it. So, Todd says, "I saw a sign for cutting your own tree right down the road, let's go there." Last year, we went to this GREAT tree farm with our friends, but I just wasn't up for the hour-plus drive.
Let me give some background: We have vaulted ceilings, but with our furniture, not a lot of room. So, we must have a VERY TALL tree, but NOT very fat. You know, Charlie-Brownish, but not too Charlie-Brownish. Easy right?
BAH.
HUMBUG.
Ok, so we get to the local place and I can tell as soon as we drive up that they don't have trees tall enough. I say, "They don't have anything here." I don't want to get out because, 1) I don't want to waste my precious time, and 2) It's too damn cold-I mean that wind cutting through to your very bone cold. Which is OK if it's snowing and pretty, but it's not. It's cold but MUDDY. *bah humbug* So, of course we get out where I get to enjoy the sounds of hunters shooting cute furry animals across the street every 30 seconds (that can ruin the Christmas cheer worse than no snow, let me tell you) AND have the guy send us on a fishing expedition because he "just knows he has those kinds of trees back there..." Of course, he didn't. He argues he does, we leave. Jackie's crabby (yeah, big shock, I know).
We starting driving to the hour-plus place and see another "cut your own tree" sign. What the heck? We try it. We get out, the first one I see I say, "Let's get it." (I obviously didn't really care). We don't, instead we walk around for an hour, traipsing through muddy fields (no snow here STILL, only rain) with the -40 degree weather (OK, so it really wasn't -40, but it felt like it). We get in the truck, I have to pee (NO, I'm NOT using THAT PORTA POTTY THING!) AND Todd notices we have something like 4 miles to empty and we're in the middle of nowhere. Imagine Blair Witch Project, only during the day.
We drive down the street, find a skanky gas station with an even skankier bathroom (oh joy!) where there is (wait for it...)
A MIRROR ON THE WALL INSIDE THE STALL! I stare at it for a few minutes convincing myself that it's a two-way mirror (I really do think it was). Who cares? If they want to see my cottage cheese a**, so be it, I have to pee.
Leaving gas station, describing two-way mirror to my husband, almost get sandwiched between a car in front of us and a truck behind us when stupid car at front of line slams on breaks.
We weren't paying attention because we were trying to find the radio information to see if it was Dean Martin singing about "Rudy and his red beak" (Dean, you arrogant SOB, must you blaspheme Rudolph?).
Finally arrive at the tree farm an hour-plus away AND find our tree in 10 minutes. WAY. And that's INCLUDING the time it took to listen to the girl explain the tree farm map.
Shall we recap?
-Furry animals dying
-Redneck tree farm liar
-Minus 40 degree weather
-Muddy traipsing
-No tree again and porta potty
-Two-way mirror
-Dean the SOB and red-beaked Rudy
-Sandwich smash
-10-minute tree
I think that pretty much sums it up.
MERRY CHRISTMAS EVERYONE!
