Time: 10:05:27 AM
Remote Name: 22.214.171.124
Yesterday we got our Christmas Tree chopped down. It's a huge Grand Fir that lived just outside our fence by the cascade berry patch. It took 3 men to drag it through the gate, down the orchard and into the house. They had a heck of a time pulling it through the open double doors, and I thought we'd have to take the doors off! But grunting and groaning, they managed to pull it through.
Then of course, we had to solve the problem of raising it up and tying it securely to the rafters. Todd and Callum managed fine, and soon we had tiny white lights strung up the top and Christmas balls dancing in the light. It is a magnificent tree - broad and regal. The only problem is that I'm so sick I can't smell it and everyone nearly faints when they step inside, the house smells so good. There is another bigger problem: the brutal death of this glorious tree.
I didn't even give it a hug or a "good-bye" before the chainsaw ripped it apart. I've been apologizing to the tree profusely since we brought it inside, but the visual glory of the tree is no compensation for its life! I'm sure the tree doesn't care a hoot if it is spangled in lights and ornaments. I'm sure it is hurting because it isn't dead, yet! We prolong its death by feeding it water. Even though this tree was destined to come down, my heart aches in the face of its beauty shimmering magical fairy lights in the deep of winter.