Myself and some fellow fab photographers are continuing another year of our Life Stories Project.
Life Stories Project- what’s that? See MONTH 1 for the full story.
The gist of the project, is myself along with some fellow photographers are creating a monthly photo project- of our OWN children.
Our goal- to document the little things we want to remember, as childhood is so fleeting.
Now in our house, the only way to have a REAL Christmas tree. None of that fake, tree-from-a-box stuff. I require the real deal. Now normally, we hit up our area tree farm stand. The kind where everyday they haul in fresh cut trees (or more than likely, cut 4wks ago) and stand them up under pretty twinkly lights, where we city folk can meander amongst them and choose one. But this year, we decided it was time to cut our own- you know, like literally cut it from where it grows.
As luck would have it, there is a great tree farm, right by the house I grew up in- so on our way home from visiting for Thanksgiving in Rochester, we stopped to get our tree!
I remember the house this tree farm is on- from my days as a wee one riding the looooooong bus ride to school (living outside the city limits means a long bus ride) and there was a girl who lived in that house who rode my bus I think named Michelle….long before this was a tree farm and it was just a, well, farm. But I digress….
The tree shop! Where we checked in, and picked up our measuring stick and saw…
Then the search begins for the perfect tree
Everyone has their idea of which tree we should get- some big, some Charlie Brown size…
We measure them, and the kids complain that *someone* is hogging the measuring stick…. but the ultimate decision is mine. *I* decide, and I try not to let the power go to my head…
Some of the members in our party do NOT take the search very seriously……but he is so darn cute!
And eventually we find it- THE PERFECT TREE!
Then comes the dad guy, with his mighty saw, to cut down said tree, and haul it back to the truck…
At this point a certain person has grown weary, and requires carrying….thank goodness for big brothers!
When we return to the truck, our furry beast awaits.