Sunday, December 13, 2009

Snorri go home and Christmas tree time

Here's our Christmas tree this year, being admired by Charlie cat.

The Womerlippi family tradition is, one or two Saturdays before Christmas, I declare "I'm going to go get the tree now" or something like that.

Aimee groans.

I say "only a little one."

I march off, usually with Haggis the dog, into the woods where we have many balsam firs who are growing too close together. Growing like that, nine out of ten will die whatever happens. I find one I like. I cut it and carry it home.

It's always too big. (They always look so much bigger in the woods.)

I cut it down, but it always brushes the ceiling. Aimee groans again.

I spend the regulation 45 minutes to an hour unable to find the decorations. Aimee groans again. (But any chance she gets to visit Ten Thousand Villages or similar stores, she always buys more decorations.)

I decorate the tree. Something always breaks. This time it was one of those nice decorations, a white plaster hummingbird.

Rinse and repeat next Christmas season.

Another tradition is the return of Snorri the Rental Ram to his own home farm. That happened today.

Question: How do you load a 300 pound ram in a worn-out Japanese pick-em-up truck?

Answer: With difficulty.

And then you tie down the tailgate with not one but two rope lashings.

But he butts his head against it all the same, threatening to break out.

This picture is of His Snorriness in the isolation pen having his last meal here. For comparison, that's a one-foot wide feed dish that his head almost fills. Big dude.

I'm kind of glad to be done with rams for the year. They're such knuckleheads.

Now we sit back and hope for lots of healthy lambs in March and April.

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