It's one of my favorite traditions of the holiday season. Bundling up, knit hat on, boots laced up, Christmas tunes playing for the drive. And that fresh fir scent that mingles in the cold air as you brush through rows of towering evergreens in search of the perfect tree. I've loved this since I was a little girl, and I have the fondest memories of the trek to and from the tree farm and the excitement of finding a tree that was as plump as it was tall.
Now I get to share this sweet memory-making tradition with my husband and our girls. It literally thrills me; I cannot contain the excitement. This year, it was a frigid 28° while we were at the tree farm. We brought out the snow suits for this excursion, and I loved watching my little pink fluff hunt for a tree. Our littlest gal stayed toasty on me, keeping me equally as warm....well my trunk (my hands could have used some heat!).
We found our tree in record time, partially thanks to the cold moving us along. Husband chopped (rather cut) it down, and now it stands in our family room like the majestic beaut that it is. Our whole home smells like Christmas thanks to this tree. And the twinkle lights are on all day and night long, giving me the happiest holiday feels.
We thought about back-tracking for a photo with the sled, but quickly thought better about it. The cold was a bit too much, so we headed to the little shop to find an ornament and some pumpkin butter to keep us till next year.
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