Growing up, I have fond memories of always going to pick out a living tree for Christmas. These memories are very happy ones, though they usually involved my sister and I fighting and her probably hitting me at some point. Then, we would all decorate the tree (and the rest of the house) together. However, that was the fun part. My Dad always got to be the one to deal with putting it all away.
So, I have never had a fake tree. (Although one year I do remember decorating a vacuum cleaner when we were away for the actual day of Christmas.) It seems like almost everyone else I know is going to the dark fake side. So, I have been tempted. And why not? In the long run, you save A LOT of money. There are no annoying little needles that you never seem to be able to get rid of. No sap on your fingers. No forgetting to feed the tree some odd mixture of water and lemon juice and bleach. I suppose it is probably more eco-friendly.
But I cannot let go of the thought of sharing these happy memories with Donovan. So, I remain steadfast in my dedication to killing trees. Each year. Every year.
Making our first tree memory:
And, the finished product: