tannenbaum


If you live in Cheshire, or anywhere thereabouts, then Delemere Forrest is really the only place you should be getting your trees. The whole thing becomes a festive event. Like the opening scene from National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation. Trekking out to the almost-middle-of-nowhere. Hiking it from there. Except, of course, it’s so much prettier. Because your drive is through the English countryside. Full of cottages with names instead of street numbers and timbered frames and real wood fires.

Tannenbaum

Unfortunately, we had to forgo the ritual this year. The tree above came from an old timer by the name of John. Who grows the yuletide bushes in a part of Appalachia that’s not my own, then hauls them down to sell in a commercial lot that once belonged to Harris Teeter. It’s not the first tree I’ve bought from the fellow. And It probably wont be the last. He’s good people, that John. With a story to go with everything.

I like him. And his trees.

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