Okay. I confess. I am guilty of premeditated murder. Of a Frazier Fir. I confess! Okay? I confess! I'm not happy about this... it hurts to admit that I just purchased a live tree, had it delivered, and am watching it slowly die. Yes, I picked it out as it hung from a noose at the outdoor tree-butcher stand. It wasn't a pretty sight but I knew I would eventually end up there, sniffling and looking rather dazed -- eyes glazed over, nose red -- strolling the trees that twisted in the wind from their nooses. Until, undeniably, I was drawn to just one. Just one tree that was destined to die in my livingroom.
And so, here I sit. Dreading the work ahead... lights, ornaments, bows, a star. The funeral dress of a Frazier Fir for the Christmas holiday. I even drooled over the cute 20-something hunk/pall-bearer who delivered the doomed evergreen. Oh God, what have I become?!
In case you're a little tired of my melodrama, here's some fun info on this heinous tradition along with the scoop on some other ancient traditions that probably contributed to our current tree-death ceremony. Look, don't blame me, it's highly likely that my ancient ancestors were Druids. It's in the blood. That's my defense and I'm sticking to it!
And so, here I sit. Dreading the work ahead... lights, ornaments, bows, a star. The funeral dress of a Frazier Fir for the Christmas holiday. I even drooled over the cute 20-something hunk/pall-bearer who delivered the doomed evergreen. Oh God, what have I become?!
In case you're a little tired of my melodrama, here's some fun info on this heinous tradition along with the scoop on some other ancient traditions that probably contributed to our current tree-death ceremony. Look, don't blame me, it's highly likely that my ancient ancestors were Druids. It's in the blood. That's my defense and I'm sticking to it!
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