I'm not complaining, oh, heck, maybe I'm complaining, but one of the things about going straight edge is that it complicates celebrations. Before it was pretty simple -- when something really good happened I'd mark the occasion by going out and, you know, drinking my face off. How the heck do you celebrate when you don't drink anymore? Well, we did it by having burritoes and root beer from Big Fat Burrito (Friday night) and then going and getting our Christmas tree (on Saturday morning).
So, Friday. While we ate burritoes -- wait a second is that how you really spell burritoes? Maybe it should be burritos. Yeah that looks better. OK, while we ate burritos we also executed a rousing round of put-the-camera-on-timer-mode which was accompanied by hoping-you-don't-look-too-ridiculous-when-the-thing-finally-takes-the-pic. Next morning we headed out to Milton to finally get our Christmas tree. This is easily the latest we've ever bought one. Probably because we've been away for a couple of weekends.
We arrived at the tree farm with the intention of getting a perfect and fragrant balsam fir. Natalie and Myron went ahead and I lugged the stroller up the hill. The ground was uneven. It was icy. And all these other families were looking at me as I pulled Penny and the stroller higher. I pushed and I pulled the stroller for maybe a minute before I decided what I was doing was ridiculous. The closest tree, er, the first tree closest to the parking lot, was this sad and gnarled little evergreen. We didn't know what kind it was, it had this gaping absence of greenery on one side, but it was close, so that's the one we took.
After I took the above picture I was like, what a second, what are you doing standing around taking pictures while your wife is struggling to get the saw through the tree trunk? Shulgan, get in there! Actually the saws made it pretty easy to get the tree down. Once we lugged the trunk down the hill there were some impressive machines they put the trees through—one that shook all the loose needles off the trunk and then one to bail up the branches so you could transport it in the car.
Myron seemed worried about the above machine -- I think he worried the tree was uncomfortable all bundled up like that.
Then for some apple cider. That went over a lot better than the tree machine.
Once we got the tree home and up in the family room it turned out to look, if not perfect, at least suitable. It has its faults, it's aware of them, but it stands there with a kind of scrappy pride, kind of like the family that bought it.
You would think that the role of lumberjack would have tired out Myron but the next morning he woke up at 5:30 a.m. which meant that I lugged him downstairs, turned on the television and then went back to sleep while he watched Big Comfy Couch (terrible) and Little Bear (awesome). At some point Natalie came down and set Penny down alongside us. Myron took care of her while Natalie was in the kitchen brewing the coffee. I love Myron's expression in this pic -- it sums up what's become his general attitude toward his sister, which is this overall air of paternal concern. He seems to be thinking, yeah, she's a pain in the butt, but she's my sister and I'll take care of her.
OK, finally a pic that's a few days older, from the Christmas Brunch we attended with my parents when we were back home, where the kids saw Santa for the first time this year. Well, I guess that was Penny's first time ever. Huh. Anyway the brunch had this no-jeans policy which, geez, before the event I was complaining to Natalie about who the heck ever dresses up on the weekend anymore, I totally resented having to wear a dress shirt on a weekend but then actually once I saw both kids in their Christmas outfits and Natalie and I all spiffed up I was proud of my family and glad that we had dressed up for it. Anyway, here's the pic with the grandparents.
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