I'm one of those folk who like a real tree - a 'proper' fir tree, with sticky sap and prickly needles and the most gorgeous smell. We're lucky that we have a Christmas tree plantation a few miles out of town, and for many years now we've toddled along, walked round a muddy field and chosen the tree we want to take home. We've never cut the trees - always dig them up and stick them in a bucket of soil, about a week to a week-and-a-half before Christmas.
This year, we had to have a bit of help. Mr Squidge is on light duties after an op, so the man at the plantation had to do the digging for me, and in exchange for his dinner a friend came round to help get the tree into the bucket.
It was all I could do then to stop T rushing in and decorating it straightaway. I managed to persuade him to eat dinner first, but as soon as he'd swallowed the last mouthful...
I had a meeting to go to yesterday evening; it was with much trepidation that I left the kids to the task of decorating the tree. Knowing how quickly the novelty usually wears off, I wondered whether I'd come back to half a job done...but I wasn't disappointed. It was pretty much finished by the time I got back. There were only a few things left to put on, which I did, all the while resisting the urge to rearrange...
What do you reckon?
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