Happy December friends! Last night, the five of us, including the dog, shuffled into the car and made the drive to the local Christmas tree lot where we’ve been going to since the boys were babies. It occurred to me that, although unspoken, we have a tradition that Norman Rockwell would be proud of (he he) and it goes something like this:

I wander around the lot, decisively undecided about which tree to choose, meanwhile Jeff walks the dog around the parking lot to prevent him from peeing on every tree, the boys play hide-and-seek, giggling and laughing their way around the trees dressed in t-shirts and sandals no less (because shoes and jackets in Winter are overrated and I’ve given up on explaining the merits of warmth). Finally, cold and hunger having crept up on us, we hurriedly choose the first tree we saw and drive off debating which route, highway or street, is safest so the tree doesn’t fall off the car. Arrive at home.

Our tree is up, decorated and it’s really, really beautiful. xx