We have always put up our tree the day after Thanksgiving. Since I was little, the day after has marked a sense of merriment with the changing of the holidays, from one festivity to the next. We have kept up that tradition with our own family.
Since we also have a long-standing tradition of traveling up into the mountains and chopping down our own "wild tree" in the forest, a tradition that goes back many generations in my family, we have to start early in order to beat the snowfall. We usually venture up sometime in mid-November and some years we have still been stuck trekking up the hill in our snowboots and snowshoes and sawing down the first tree that looked reasonable and dragging it back down the hill for several hours. We really earned our trees those years. This year there was a gorgeous foot or so of snow on the ground, enough to be able to get up safely and still enjoy a white and wonderful experience. These are a few of the photos I took from a couple of weeks ago in the mountains on the east-side.
This year was particularly grand for so many reasons. The snow on the ground and the snow falling on and off from the sky. The kids are old enough to (mostly) walk the entire way. They are old enough to look forward to finding their own tiny tree and they can snip it down as well. Kid initiated snowball fights. Countless snow angels. Smiles on everyone's face. Hot chocolate in the cozy condo afterwards to warm everyone up.
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