Instructions for obtaining a live Christmas tree:
Step 1. On a bitterly cold Sunday morning, put on 3 layers of winter clothing and pile into a beat up old van with six other people and a big, smelly dog.
Step 2. Drive said van 15 miles north into Michigan to a live Christmas tree farm.
Step 3. Upon your arrival, park the van, then spend the next 45 minutes to an hour examining 50 different trees trying to find "the perfect Christmas tree".
Step 4. Upon realizing the futility of your search, realize that the only way to avoid losing your toes to frostbite is to select the next tree you see and get the hell out of there.
Step 5. Lie down in the snow on your side. Attempt to cut the tree as close to the ground as possible. Fail miserably in your attempt. Ruin your best pair of gloves in the process.
Step 6. Drag the tree (which looks a lot less straighter than it did when it was still standing) over to the baler. While waiting for the tree to be wrapped, rub face with hands in attempt to restore feeling to face.
Step 7. Spend another ten minutes freezing your ass off while the other people in your party are still getting their trees.
Step 8. Get back into van. Go home. Spend 20 minutes under a hot shower. VOW TO NEVER DO THIS AGAIN!!!!
Step 9. Do it all over again next Christmas!
Actually, this year I finally wised up and skipped the annual Christmas tree hunt. I simply threw my back out when I bent over to pick up my dad's tree. So I've spent the last day and a half on pain medication. And it still hurts like a sonofabitch.
Next year, my dad gets an artificial tree!
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