Tree day came in several parts this year, but not because we love the tree so much that we can't get enough. It was collision of busy life and a dried out tree from a box store. With one string of lights around the bottom and two dust pans full of needles we made the anticlimactic call to abort decorating and take it back. Sigh.
Buying from a box store was convenient but ultimately foolish, so we didn't waste our second chance. On a misty Saturday morning, with tummies full of warm pancakes, we wound our way out to Gravel Mart, where they sell trees with beads of dew and the aroma of the forest.
We're real-tree people. We both grew up that way. Fake trees just don't do and this year's tree experience (false start and all) reminds me why. There's something unbeatable about the fragrance of a real tree. The boughs are still damp. I catch little sniffs of Christmas with every ornament. For me, it's worth sweeping up dropped needles and maintaining the water level.
What about you? Real tree or fake?