We treated ourselves to a fresh-from-the-farm tree from Gethsemane, as opposed to our usual the fresh-from-the-Home-Depot kind.
The tree I picked is kind of the apartment-dweller's equivalent of purchasing a flashy cherry-red sports car upon turning fifty. What? I don't need a house with a porch and a yard. Look at how BIG this tree is!
So big, in fact, that it scraped the ceiling, Griswold style. I cut down about six inches from the top while my boyfriend climbed a ladder to wipe sap off the ceiling. With the tree shaved down and ornaments laid out, things came together in glorious oversized splendor.
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Overcompensating, perhaps, for last year's tree?
P.S.
