2008 Woodie Awards
The do-it-yourself guide to Christmas tree hauling
Joe Lepain
Issue date: 12/11/03 Section: Feature
The time of year had come, for this family it was the day after Thanksgiving. Rain, sleet, or snow, we were ready to go out and hunt. We piled into the family car, everyone anxious to get to the farm. As we pulled onto the dirt road and started to see the fields of Christmas trees, we were ready to trek over any field to hunt for the perfect tree.
This particular year, the weather was in favor of us taking our time and relaxing. Some years it had been raining or snowing and the cold weather forced a quicker decision than we would have preferred. And so our hunt began. My youngest sister called out, "How about this one?" Someone was quick to reply, "Too short!" My sister grumbled to herself, "Fine, don't like the one I pick out!" And so we continued to roam and rover the fields, with people calling out at sporadic times "Ooo, I like this one!" as my little sister was always quick to reply with as much sarcasm as possible "Too short!"
After several hours of hunting and a couple concerns of hypothermia, we found the one. It was short, but, of course, not too short. It was fat, but, of course, not too fat. It was, in one word, perfect! When it comes to Christmas trees, one doesn't feel bad when discriminating between short, tall, fat or skinny ones.
Now that we had discovered and fallen in love with our tree, the task that lay ahead was the actual cutting down of the tree. Yes, we were the family that did not go to places where they cut and package them for you. We were true believers that hard work pays off great dividends. Now the problem with cutting down your own Christmas tree is that the only people that benefit from this process are the people who run the farm. Anyway, I got down underneath the tree, and started sawing away. "Ok, Joe, just a little bit more to go!" Easy for them to say, they didn't have pine needles falling into their ears and lodging there for the rest of their adult lives. After a few minutes of strenuous activity, which could have been avoided if we just went to a place that had pre-cut trees, it was down. "Isn't this fun?" my mom asked. I got up, brushed myself off, and simply said "No, how do you suppose we get this to the barn?" Well, needless to say, we had to drag it down to the barn. When we arrived there, we saw another family walking down from the field with no tree. For a minute we all felt bad that they didn't find a tree, that feeling quickly subsided when we heard the sound of a tractor following them. Yes, the tractor was carrying their tree.
This particular year, the weather was in favor of us taking our time and relaxing. Some years it had been raining or snowing and the cold weather forced a quicker decision than we would have preferred. And so our hunt began. My youngest sister called out, "How about this one?" Someone was quick to reply, "Too short!" My sister grumbled to herself, "Fine, don't like the one I pick out!" And so we continued to roam and rover the fields, with people calling out at sporadic times "Ooo, I like this one!" as my little sister was always quick to reply with as much sarcasm as possible "Too short!"
After several hours of hunting and a couple concerns of hypothermia, we found the one. It was short, but, of course, not too short. It was fat, but, of course, not too fat. It was, in one word, perfect! When it comes to Christmas trees, one doesn't feel bad when discriminating between short, tall, fat or skinny ones.
Now that we had discovered and fallen in love with our tree, the task that lay ahead was the actual cutting down of the tree. Yes, we were the family that did not go to places where they cut and package them for you. We were true believers that hard work pays off great dividends. Now the problem with cutting down your own Christmas tree is that the only people that benefit from this process are the people who run the farm. Anyway, I got down underneath the tree, and started sawing away. "Ok, Joe, just a little bit more to go!" Easy for them to say, they didn't have pine needles falling into their ears and lodging there for the rest of their adult lives. After a few minutes of strenuous activity, which could have been avoided if we just went to a place that had pre-cut trees, it was down. "Isn't this fun?" my mom asked. I got up, brushed myself off, and simply said "No, how do you suppose we get this to the barn?" Well, needless to say, we had to drag it down to the barn. When we arrived there, we saw another family walking down from the field with no tree. For a minute we all felt bad that they didn't find a tree, that feeling quickly subsided when we heard the sound of a tractor following them. Yes, the tractor was carrying their tree.