Any writer knows that when you have an experience that is emotionally charged you write it down. Then you edit – putting in all the thoughts and emotions you don’t tell your family. So, with some risk, here’s the story.
Cutting down the Christmas Tree on the Freaking Mountain
Cutting down the Christmas Tree on the Freaking Mountain
Short story: carsick ride, finding trees (this should be easy right?), getting trees tied down, walking to de-thaw my toes and a slightly queasy ride back.
My husband and I don’t get carsick. But as the driver raced up the mountain, my husband and I were taking deep breaths to keep the contents of our stomachs in that organ. We didn’t know how far away the mountain was, so the hour plus ride became a guessing game and a determination that we wouldn’t lose our breakfast in the car. The only things we can figure that affected us that day was eating a bigger breakfast than we usually eat and the speed of the vehicle.
As soon as we arrived my brother and husband immediately set off to find the perfect Christmas tree. I was glad they went straight into the forest because I’m not a ‘let’s-play-in-the-snow-on-the-mountain’ girl. I’m a ‘let-me-look-at-the-mountain-through-a-window-from-my-warm-house’ girl. We had come on good faith even though I had concerns about staying warm and the amounts of snow that we’d actually have to deal with. I didn’t want to get stuck on a mountain.
Thankfully if you know how to layer, you don’t get cold. I didn't get cold. We were there for 4-5 hours. It's nice to know that I know how to layer clothes if I ever get pulled up a mountain again.
By the time all five trees were dragged out of the forest I was an hour past ready to leave. The kids and moms had fun; the men were proud of their trees and worked to tied them into the small trailer they’d borrowed. One person directed and fairly quickly the trees were piled and tied down. I walked back to the rest of the cars – across the freeway – to de-thaw my toes that were hovering in the painfully area of ‘I’m cold but I’m not numb yet’.
My husband and I don’t get carsick. But as the driver raced up the mountain, my husband and I were taking deep breaths to keep the contents of our stomachs in that organ. We didn’t know how far away the mountain was, so the hour plus ride became a guessing game and a determination that we wouldn’t lose our breakfast in the car. The only things we can figure that affected us that day was eating a bigger breakfast than we usually eat and the speed of the vehicle.
As soon as we arrived my brother and husband immediately set off to find the perfect Christmas tree. I was glad they went straight into the forest because I’m not a ‘let’s-play-in-the-snow-on-the-mountain’ girl. I’m a ‘let-me-look-at-the-mountain-through-a-window-from-my-warm-house’ girl. We had come on good faith even though I had concerns about staying warm and the amounts of snow that we’d actually have to deal with. I didn’t want to get stuck on a mountain.
Thankfully if you know how to layer, you don’t get cold. I didn't get cold. We were there for 4-5 hours. It's nice to know that I know how to layer clothes if I ever get pulled up a mountain again.
By the time all five trees were dragged out of the forest I was an hour past ready to leave. The kids and moms had fun; the men were proud of their trees and worked to tied them into the small trailer they’d borrowed. One person directed and fairly quickly the trees were piled and tied down. I walked back to the rest of the cars – across the freeway – to de-thaw my toes that were hovering in the painfully area of ‘I’m cold but I’m not numb yet’.
After another slightly carsick ride back to the house, our adventure ended. Ugh – I am so grateful that I hate throwing up more than any other illness. The best part of this experience is that there were enough extra boughs that my husband created a wreath for our window and a Christmas bush for our home.
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