The Live Tree Adventure...

This year, our front entryway got a new resident: a live Christmas tree. But getting it was nothing short of an adventure.

We piled into our small car, Fern and Juniper in the back; Thistle and Peony in the front, and drove to a house that wasn’t a tree lot, wasn’t even pretending to be one. Just a family with a handful of potted trees — maybe twenty in total — all grown for this single season. It felt like a secret waiting to be discovered.

We wandered along the little forest they’d created, chatting and laughing as we compared heights and shapes. And then we saw it: a tree that somehow felt just right... after paying, Juniper and Thistle hoisted it to the car and then we realised it was bigger than we’d imagined...

What followed was a logistical comedy: Do we attempt the front seat or the back seat? Rain forced the roof shut, so into the back we went — limbs squished together, arms tangled, knees protesting, and the tree curled over the front seat like some whimsical creature straight out of a storybook. And in all the glorious chaos, we we drove home — tired, squashed, and thoroughly delighted.

When we finally carried it into the house and placed it by the front door, all that effort felt instantly worthwhile. It stood there proudly, filling the space with its scent, its presence, its simple magic. Beside it, a small wooden sleigh waited, an extra touch of delight that somehow made the scene feel complete.

It’s just a tree, and yet, somehow, it feels like a story: of small adventures, shared laughter, and the unexpected delight of making room for something wonderful.

And as we pass by it each day, I can’t help but smile at the memory of that squished car ride, the curling branches, and the way Christmas sometimes comes in perfectly imperfect packages.