Saturday, December 08, 2012

A fun day

It is family tradition to cut down our Christmas tree.

We've never had a fake tree. We've never just picked one off of the lot. It always has to be cut down. My dad insists on it.

We met this morning. All four of us. Maybe I'm 30. Maybe Meg's 26. Neither of us have made our own traditions. Not yet.

Not just yet.

So, for now we continue our family traditions. The ones that we grew up with. Pie Night. Cutting down the Christmas tree.

My dad, ever morbid, insisted that Meg cut down the trees this year. "You have to learn. One day I'll be dead."

(We all knew that crawling on the ground to cut down the tree would make him dizzy. Almost two months later and he's still having symptoms from his concussion.)

We cut down a tree for Grandma, too. Because that's always tradition. Grandma likes a small, skinny tree. A tree just like her.

And we brought Ellie because she likes an adventure.

Two trees later -- I'm always amazed at how little time it actually takes to pick out a tree and get it packed up on the roof of the car -- we were back on the road.

We had hamburgers at our favorite college-town hangout. And we split up. Meg to Canada for a hockey game. Mom and Dad needed to deliver Grandma's tree. And I had Hanukkah gifts to wrap up for Lucy, Chet and Baby A.

The first night of Hanukkah is tonight. And I might have spent half of the day getting a Christmas tree, but I'll spend tonight celebrating the Festival of Lights.

Life is so deliciously diverse.

Happy Hanukkah.

Happy Saturday.

Happy everything.


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