I do have a guilty feeling in my soul when I see all the forgotten trees by everyone's trash the days following Christmas. But who could deny the wonderful smell of a fresh cut tree hanging around their apartment on cold windy nights? Not I.
Apologies for the darkness of the pictures, it was night and I still haven’t figured out the light meter on my Polaroid camera. The one I broke last week at Thanksgiving was not nearly as high-tech.
Jack was the gent who helped us with a fresh cut by hand. We walked the tree back to the apartment and I just kept hoping for snow, but the brisk breeze was enough of a reminder that it was nearly December. I have always dreamed of getting a tree in that atmosphere. It had such a wonderful feeling, like the photo of kids on the front of Christmas cards carrying the tree home on Christmas Eve.
Now I have to get back to my workshop to finish up some things on my massive list that I must get through before I call it a holiday. I will post on all of that when it feels like I have made progress.
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