Had book club breakfast this morning, "Cutting For Stone". Always a fun time, about 25% of the time went to the book discussion.
Wife and Jack Russells made me take them to the mountains to kill a tree for the Pagan Holidays (dogs kept peeing on the Festivus Pole). There are about four inches of snow up at 8000' and the wife was insistent on getting a Douglas fir this year. Funny thing that the Forest Service doesn't spend enough time growing proper trees for decorating, they're all slender and spartan looking, not stocky and incredibly full like those farm grown trees that get all their tender terminal buds sheared off every year. (That's simply ghastly - just like keeping calves immobile in small pens and feeding them milk until they are killed...)
We tramped around quite a while, wind howling and spotty snow flurries... looked at a passable Ponderosa pine, almost picked a southwestern white pine, saw a Douglas fir that was thicker in the foliage than most because it was a bit diseased... finally settled on a well-proportioned Douglas fir. The dogs were in heaven, racing around in the snow and wrestling each other, then getting a squirrel track, and flushing a flock of a dozen wild turkeys.
I un-sheathed the beautiful little Gransfors Bruks forest axe
and chopped the chosen one down. We mosied back to the Dodge and loaded up, almost getting stuck in the narrow forest road turning around. We'd been making new tracks for several miles, so walking out wouldn't have been a preferred activity.
Back home now, fire on the hearth, sipping a G&T, and sitting in front of the frikkin' computer. But that's because I like all you miscreants.
Have a good one, ya'll!