Historically, Ben and I have some differences in how we revere the magical process of shopping for a Christmas tree (hence the years of Home Depot trees...). I have memories of racing around Christmas tree lots in the dark cold with my brothers under strings of white lights. Ben today was ready to buy the first cheapest tree he saw. He, as my parents would say, woke up on the wrong side of the bed.
We also tend to have a slight difference of opinion every year about how one ought to transport the Christmas tree home. Does one tie it to the roof or simply reach out of the driver side window and hold onto the trunk with one hand while one drives? This farm included a freeway drive -- would we possibly have this discussion here? I looked over at Ben who still looked like a flat-mouthed muppet with frowning eyebrows. I was pretty sure we would.
Silas raced into the dense trees, and Eden kept congratulating me for following her voice even though she walked behind me. Once Silas got the hang of reading the tickets wired to branches, he'd yell for us to come see this tree or that. At one of those moments, I tripped for the umpteenth time on a little stump (I wore tall clogs) and then rocketed forward, as if I'd just been launched, into the arms of a living tree that immediately dropped me onto the dirt. Apparently, Ben saw me go but didn't hurry, and I sat there for a long time laughing while Silas and Eden stood over me watching without cracking a smile.