Christmas decorating is running a bit behind schedule this year... but this week we finally made it out to the nursery and selected this year's tree. It's especially silly that it took us this long when I compare it to the tree-hunting excursions of my youth. My memories are of sleet-filled afternoons spent trudging across acres of frozen tree farm, back and forth, in pursuit of the perfect tree, which was inevitably the first one we saw but we couldn't commit until after viewing each of the possible alternatives. My grandfather was a bit of a perfectionist when it came to evergreens.
So, tree shopping in Utah has been ridiculously easy. No sawing, no frozen rain, no traipsing across the Maryland tundra. I'm glad that Ben chose to wear short sleeves for our outing (our policy is that you choose your own attire, but you have to live with the comfort - or lackthereof - of your decision), so I think he got a little taste of his Reinhart tree hunting heritage.