Black Friday Shopping at the Tree Farm

 

I haven't been Black Friday shopping in decades, and I don't miss it one bit.  Instead, it's our family's tradition to cross over the mountain the day after Thanksgiving and shop for our Christmas tree.  This year it was a cool, foggy day in the Alleghenies as we trekked over the hills of this large tree farm.

 

I wore my pedometer that day and got in more steps than any other day that Thanksgiving week.  Hopefully, I walked off all that pumpkin pie.

 

Some younger members of the family never really hike; they just run everywhere instead.  Ah, if only I still had that much energy.

 

While some of us hiked or ran, others got pulled around like royalty in a makeshift rickshaw.  From the moment our orange-haired son was born, his older sister looked at him with annoyance.  I'm pretty sure she's been waiting her whole life for moments like this when he would live to serve her.

 

When we thought we'd found the tree of our dreams, Hubby "measured" its width and height using his body as the measuring tape.

 

This year we thought we'd found it early on, and some of us posed for a photo before cutting it down.  Why is it that little boys always want to photobomb your pics?

 

It turned out that after examining it more closely, the trunk had a severe case of scoliosis and would have been a disaster in our tree stand at home.

 

So we moved on and found another, this one with a perfectly straight trunk.  None of our sons want to be the official tree cutter of the family, so Hubby is still the one to lie on the ground and saw it down.

 

Fortunately, our younger boys do like to haul the tree back to our vehicle. 

 

After getting all the loose needles shaken off and the tree wrapped up tight, we got our cups of hot cocoa and a few bags of homemade cookies, and we set off for home.

 

Set up in our dining room with a crockpot full of warm cranberry apple cider nearby, the ceremonial unwrapping of our Christmas tree occurred.  The day involved no lines, no crowded aisles, no fighting over limited quantities of merchandise.  Just fresh air, rolling hills full of pine trees, and steaming cups of cocoa and cider.

And that is how we do Black Friday shopping as Preppy Mountain Farmers.