When I was young, my family always cut our own Christmas tree. We would trudge through the snow until we all agreed on the perfect tree and watch my dad struggle with the “too small saw” he always brought. He would eventually drag it back to the car, cold, annoyed and covered in pine needles. We watched my dad struggle to strap the tree to the top of the car while my mum shouted unhelpful instructions from the ground. Inevitably, the tree would fly off the car the moment we reversed. Regardless of the annual holiday lampoon, we all looked forward to our family Christmas tree adventure. Read the rest of the article here.
Writer, Author & TV Expert