Another successful hunt is in the books. Dawn and I got a nice big one and each of the kids got a small one of their own. As has been tradition for quite a few years our good friends, the Richter’s, joined us for the hunt and filled both of their tags as well. We covered some pretty rough terrain but the gang was up to the task and were willing to do whatever it took to bring down the prey. Those trees never stood a chance.

Particularly, the Black Hills White Spruce (Picea glauca, as it’s known to somebody much smarter than I). It’s short needles, hardy limbs, and full figured appearance make it a highly desirable Christmas conifer here in the Black Hills National Forest where ten bucks buys you the right to rescue the tree of your choice from the scary old forest and bring it back to the comfort and safety of your home.

There it will be placed in front of your picture window for all the passersby to behold and adorned with lights, and a host of hooked trinkets commemorating you and your family’s march through the years. A sturdy stalwart holder of Christmas past, standing guard over the bow covered boxes of Christmas present with an angel perched on its spire pondering Christmas’s yet to come.

The kids did a wonderful job decorating and I couldn’t help but notice that more and more of the ornaments are hung a little higher on the tree every year. It wasn’t all that many Christmas trees ago that the ever expanding ornament collection was relegated to the low hanging limbs and the angel installation involved me holding a squirming kid precariously over my head while simultaneously trying to coach them into the proper placement of said angel.

The interior of the house is now officially open for Christmas. The exterior illumination hasn’t occurred yet but it’s next on the holiday cheer chore list. The last few days have been too warm to put up Christmas lights and I don’t want to chance a tumble from a ladder without the extra padding afforded by layer upon layer of cold weather clothing. If I’m going to gracefully glide into a holly bush I would prefer to pick the thorns out of a thick layer of Carhart rather than a thin layer of my birthday suit. Have you ever seen a nudist colony with properly hung exterior Christmas lights? I rest my case. Don’t look up if you’re holding the ladder.

The stockings are hung by the chimney in disrepair, the yule log is doing whatever it is yule logs do, the little lights aren’t twinkling (I checked every bulb), bells are ringing, angels are winging, and Christmas is singing. I hope this finds you and yours well and good as we prepare for another bout of Christmas or a happy holiday if you’re so inclined. Merry Christmas, Happy Holidays, Festivus for the rest of us…however you say it say it with a smile or Tiny Tim will give you a ghost guided guilt trip.

Sing “Happy Birthday” to my Mom on December 5th, spanking and sock to grow a block are optional and risky to all involved.