I just can’t resist telling our Christmas tree hunting tradition.
On the Friday after Thanksgiving, we drive out to Monroe (about 45 minutes north of Seattle) to our favorite tree farm, where we look for the perfect noble fir. Here, Jim demonstrates his dubious taste in trees:
This year, Charlotte brought a tennis buddy home from college. Nasko lives in Bulgaria and wasn’t traveling home for a holiday they don’t celebrate. So he got to experience the Great Scott Tree hunt for himself:
My son Jack (on the left) complained that he NEVER got to choose the tree (Mom retains veto power over all selections), and happily for all of us this year he picked the winner:
Jim does the cutting, and the kids do the carrying:
This tree farm also has hot chocolate and candy canes, which we all enjoy before returning to town (Monroe that is) and having lunch at the local Taco Bell. It’s a tradition that started when the kids were littler and you don’t mess with tradition.
Needless to say, we will ALWAYS have a real tree.