It’s been a few years since we’ve ventured into the mountains to cut down our own tree. We’ve been using our fake tree whose perfectly placed branches and tapered shape offer something beautiful to look at, but doesn’t permeate that delicious scent of pine into my living room like a live tree would. So in the name of adventure, we left the fake tree in storage and headed for the mountains.
Once we arrived at the allowed cutting location in the forrest, we hiked. And hiked. Climbed some boulders, and hiked some more.
Then at the top of a steep hill, she stood. Prickle.
(Don’t worry, Woody did not attempt to saw his child in half, like this picture suggests)
After a family game of pinecone baseball, Woody got to work and showed us his sawing skills.
Then we took turns smelling the fresh cut tree. Ahhh, pine deliciousness!
You never realize how far you hiked out until you have to carry the tree back to the car.
After some branch reorganizing and grafting, Prickle looked a little more full and was ready to be decorated.