We went out to our favorite spot to cut down a Christmas tree last night. We take a scrawny young balsam from under the powerlines, where they are not allowed to get too tall anyway. This is the theory.
It is a nice little tradition, even as the kids get older, the weekends get busier, and we have trouble finding a time with sunlight and all 4 of us together.
When I was a kid we’d drive for an hour and make an afternoon out of it. For us, a very short walk, maybe a 15 minute exercise from start to finish, but a good memory, nonetheless.
I also remember Christmas tree lots where we had to keep the dogs on leash---so they wouldn’t bother the other people. We never leash Denali, but as Danny trudged ahead, at one point he hollered back for us to hold Denali---until the wolves disappeared.
Wow. Wolf sightings lately are only slightly less frequent than grouse sightings on the wildlife meter. I sure hope they’re finding enough to eat. (Do they eat the grouse? They must…I hope they do.) Well fed tender black labs might become a mighty appealing morsel.
Daniel found a tree, Denali was oblivious to the wolves, and –the holiday season has spun around us again!