Matt and I got our Christmas tree last night. It’s perfect. No, not just perfect for us or for our house or anything like that. It’s perfect perfect. Okay, there are like two wonky branches that we’ve put facing the wall, but seriously. I think we might have found the Platonic ideal of “Christmas Tree” in material form. The Christmas Tree that all other Christmas trees suggest and echo in all their variety. I wish I had a picture to post, but you’ll all have to wait until after it’s fully decorated for that.

I feel the need to mention that I’m relatively new to this whole real pine tree in my house thing. I grew up in an artificial tree family – we used the same tree every year, for as long as I can remember. That’s twenty years of the same tree. Toward the end it was looking pretty sad, and I think my parents finally had to get rid of it a few years ago. I hope they got rid of it and didn’t just put it back in the attic For All Time. It was a lovely tree, and I have nothing against it or my parents for depriving me of a pine-scented Christmas childhood. That’s just the way it was.

But I have to say, I like walking into the house and inhaling that lovely smell.

Shiloh seems to think it’s entirely normal for us to bring a tree into the house for a while and stand it in the corner. All in all, she’s much more interested in the string of popcorn we started wrapping around it last night. She seems rather baffled about why the snacks aren’t being eaten, but so far she hasn’t tried to use it as her personal buffet.

And now I’ve run out of anything interesting to say, so I’ll sign off. I hope you find a tree as tree-y as ours.