This is our Christmas tradition.

Yesterday, we spent three hours in the snow-blown wilds looking for a Christmas tree. We ride around in the back of the pickup truck, with Dennis in the driver's seat, so we can spot the best ones. Then we get out, argue about the tree, and go on to the next one, convinced there's a better one just around the bend in the next valley. Until finally we are all so cold and tired that we actually choose one!

Well, it would be all the more fun if we were zipping about in a horse-drawn sleigh, but we always have a blast just the same. We were hoping to see the elk herd that lives around these parts. One year, a couple of them leapt over a fence right in front of us, and then bounded off into the pinon, as we were standing there with our tree. That's kind of a once in a lifetime thing, I guess.

I love getting the Christmas tree from the mountains.