The kids and I decided to get the tree over the past weekend. With husband out of town and it being his birthday and all, we decided that having the tree could be a big birthday surprise upon his return. So, we ventured out. I'd love to say that while the snow was gently falling, thermos's filled with hot cocoa, Christmas music playing, we drove to our local tree farm to cut down a perfectly shaped fresh tree. That didn't happen. Instead, we drove (in the gently falling snow) to our local Home Depot and picked out a perfectly shaped 6-7 ft fraser fir for $37.50. It was one of the first ones we spotted, because of its perfect top. Perfect for our angel topper. The nice guys attached it to the top of my (tall) vehicle and home we went. In the driveway, Charlie (age 14) and I just looked at each other. Where did the nice guys go? It was now up to us to get it off the (tall) vehicle. Okay. I had a plan. We can sort of roll it off the side. It ended up rolling onto my head and hit tip first on the driveway. Oh no, the top! I reassured the kids it was fine.

Sunday morning I told the kids to get dressed and meet me in the garage. I would get everything we needed together in order to make a fresh cut off the base. Chain saw. Check. Axe. Check. Saw. Check. Except that the chain saw turned out to be a hedge trimmer (shhhh), the axe decided to hit 6 inches above my mark, and the saw had the dullest blade in town. We did it though. We all took turns sawing and finally were able to bring it in the house, put it in the stand and remove the netting. And darn, if that top really was broken. Charlie asked if we could tape it back on. I thought about tying a big red bow.
And then I remembered. In a smug sort of way. I am the girl with the hot glue gun.