A few weeks ago the family and I, along with the sausage eating vegetarians from down the road, went to the local Christmas Tree Farm to pick out our tree. Before we ventured out to tag the tree the VOR asked if we wanted to cut it ourself or if we wanted the farm to cut it for us on a certain day. (Thinking that the trees were just around the corner and since the sausage eaters would be with us when we go to cut the trees down, I said lets cut it ourself.) {In my head I was convinced that cutting the tree down myself would save us a few buck, hey I'm Scot what can I say. Even though the VOR clearly stated that the cost was the same to have them cut it down, I heard otherwise.}
Sunday after church, I packed my saw, gloves, put my winter coat on and toboggan on and headed down the road. I walked the mile to the tree and cut it down. Since it had started to snow the tree gained a few extra pounds. So I somehow was able to chunk the 100lb tree on my back and walk back to the truck. Never again.
There is a reason why Boy Scouts, local high school bands and meg-lo-marts sell trees. therefore from now on I am supporting my local tree selling gang.
No comments:
Post a Comment