When we had the opportunity, fore snow in early December was only a hope and never a promise, we waited for just the right day to trek off into the woods with axe, hatchet and saw. We were not alway the best dressed for the occasion. Although we had warm enough coats we had some difficulty with the rest of our gear.
Boots, the hook and eyetype, never seemed to fit right. They were either a couple of sizes toolarge or one size too small. Getting on the large ones was no problem but you risked having them pulled off your feet in the first snow bank. If they were too tight you could force your feet in by using a well placed piece of wax paper at your heel, but getting them off again could be a strain.
I had a unique problem with my boots; I usually had them on the wrong foot. A fact that everyone but I found pretty funny.
It was difficult for us to get into and out of the woods without someone loosing at least one glove
In the woods with the wet heavy snow silently falling and the smell of the fresh cut pine it was magical, like being part of a scene from a Christmas card. It was one of the best treats of the season, right up there with a ride on the old farm sleigh that Uncle Bill pulled with his Jeep or eating one of Grandmoms homemade donuts.
As we dragged the tree home, with gloves dropping and boots being sucked from our feet, we could already picure how beautiful it would look when decorated with our favorite ornaments, tinsel and bright colorful lights.
Dear GOD, I love Christmas stories almost as much as I love you fabulous folks.. Thank you from the bottom of my heart for just being here.. sigh.. :)