The tree

One of the joys of having so many children that you qualify for a large shoe from the state is that you get to enjoy them in different combinations. This afternoon, I wanted to go and get the Christmas tree and, allowing for daughters away at universities and attending dance shows, that meant that today's Impossible Mission Force consisted of Dan and Milly.I love how these two get on: they are next to one another in age but either side of the gap between release 1 and release 2 of the Pearson progeny. 

We went to Lupton for the tree, as we always do, heading up the lane just opposite the pub to the farm. The yard is full of trees, flagged according to price, and a device that a young lad will use to put a constraining net around your chosen festive fir so that you can get it into the car and home.

And so we wandered 'round the yard, sizing up the various trees and inventing arbitrary measures for determining which one was most suitable, and then bickering about which best met our criteria: there's a great pleasure to be taken in arguing about the inconsequential.

Once we'd chosen, watched our tree put into its straitjacket and paid for it , we drove back to the cottage with both back windows open and the root and tip of the tree sticking out either side, resulting in a very windswept Dan.

My least favourite bit of the whole Christmas tree experience is getting the bloody thing to stay upright in its stand, this despite shelling out on a variety of stands over the years that ought to have guaranteed an effortless installation. I could feel myself getting tetchy and prickly as my practical shortcomings came to the fore, while Dan and Milly giggled at the swaying tree. Eventually, though, I struck on the idea of wedging the tree in with kindling and it worked perfectly!

Happily, it was around then that Abi arrived, so we were all able to decorate the tree and look forward to enjoying it with some mulled wine and Christmas music :-)