We went to Sloan Christmas tree farm again. As usual there was a lot of Christmas cheer and music. People wore their Christmas smiles and there were far too many families wearing matching Christmas hats and sweaters. Many hot dogs were roasted and this year Gramma brought hot chocolate.
It was hard not to love it.
I'm not sure I needed the hat, the overkill parka and the boots. But you know how we Canadians are at the beginning of the season. P.R.E.P.A.R.E.D.
I love these two. They were born 10 months apart and this year they've totally cemented their Cousin Love for each other.
It set several questionable events into motion. Right after this picture, Deaglan smacked into that yellow contraption (the one on the right with wheels), bit through his tongue so that blood was spurting out of his mouth like it had released a small bubbling brook. Shaune and I sprang to action like any good parents, holding our foreheads, screaming in horror.
Thank goodness for Gramma Fran, the retired nurse. She (spiritually) smacked some sense into us, tended to our injured boy and set us back onto the right path.
When we got home the tree fell over twice, once almost on top of little Naveen and broke most of the ornaments we were hanging onto from our first Christmases together over 15 years ago.
We finally got it to stay up and upright by tying it to the railing.
Needless to say, I've had to confirm several dozen times since, what a good choice I still believe it is, praising it's majestic breadth and size.
And as usual, we threw a birthday party for this Christmas Eve baby in early December.
Same place as last year, a few different kids. A lot more action.
Fun! We did that every year until they stopped selling the kind of Christmas tree I like.
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