One tradition we hold firm to is cutting our tree. We climb to the tippy top of the world, trudge through the rows and without fail pick the best one.
The family joke is that it's ALWAYS the worst weather of the year when we go. There isn't a lot of flexibility...there are only a few weekends when we can go and chances are good there is only 1 day of a particular weekend we can go.
To date, we're having an unusually mild winter. We can almost face the day without a coat. Certainly gloves can be left behind.
How about today? Nope. No chance. It's tree cutting day. Bundle up.
The hunt is on.
I need to work on my indoor photography skills. I think it needs to be dark outside to get a picture that captures the tree at it's best.
Note to Santa: Bring it on. I'm ready.