Since my dad was here and we needed to drag him out for one more day of fun before he left we decided to get our tree on the Sunday after Thanksgiving.

From earlier than I can remember my dad took me up to the mountains every year to cut down a Christmas tree. We would drive up, and look for people advertising that their land was open for tree cutting. He’d get out our sled, rope, and his saw and we would go trekking through the snow to find the perfect tree. Usually the tree would inevitably be the top of a much larger tree. He’d cut it down and we’d trek back to the truck. Somehow he would get it up in the truck, and secured by himself, I’m still not sure how he did that. Getting it home was always exciting, at least one year we lost in on College Ave coming back into town.  At home he would trim, and wire branches in place until it was deemed perfect for the house.

Wanting to help recreate that for the kids, we found a cut-your-own place up outside of Santa Cruz, Patchen Christmas Tree Farms and went to cut ourself a tree. They provided everything, and all we had to do was show up, and cut the one we wanted. The drive was easy, and it wasn’t too far past Felton where we rode the train.

They gave us a brochure indicating what color marked tree was what price and type. On the hunt for a green marked tree the kids had fun pointing out ones that weren’t marked in green and playing in the dirt. We finally found our tree, and the men folk cut and carried it to the tree wrapping station. The people at Patchen wrapped it and put it on our car for us while we picked out some garland, and had some cider.  The best part was the car smelled piney all the way home!


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