Putting up a Christmas tree is one of my favourite holiday traditions. When I was little, we used to drive FOREVER (or, you know, from North York to Markham, which in reality is less than 15 minutes) to a tree farm to cut our own tree.
As an adult living alone, I got out of the habit. And I missed it. The smell is one of my favourite things in the world, and I swear the room with the tree in it is the warmest in the house.
When Ron and I moved in together, I made noises about a tree and he made noises about not having a tree. And then one day he arrived home from work, walked in the door, got a call on his phone and walked out again. Ron is not unknown for his quirky behaviour, so I went back to whatever I was doing until he popped in the door with a tree.
This is our sixth Christmas together, and really the first one where I’m fully realizing we have traditions. Our own traditions.
Now we go out into our “backyard” to get our tree.
And even though we get what we THINK is a “shorter” tree, it ends up being too tall to fit into any photo. But hey, we have a two storey ceiling in our living room…why not use it?
We have the traditional ornaments that we both brought into the relationship:
Happy Holidays to you and yours from all of us at Indigodragonfly.