Mail Order Tree

Surely creating one heck of a carbon footprint on at least some level, I just ordered my Christmas tree for delivery by mail. I figure that I mitigated some of the environmental damage by ordering from a west coast tree farm in Oregon, as opposed to New England or North Carolina, even though this means forfeiting a Fraser Fir. I settled for the next best thing: a gigantic Noble Fir. Never mind that shipping costs twice as much as the tree itself. (I can't afford not to start my own Christmas tree farm on the ranch! Good argument to present to the Wrangler, right?) I couldn't help it. After two years of brittle trees from the lot down the street, I'm determined to do whatever it takes to have the most spectacular, breathtaking, show-stopping Christmas tree ever, one that is both aromatic and enduring. I'm envisioning a festive tree trimming party. I'm picturing slightly smug Rockwellesque evenings in front of the tree. I'm hearing the ohhs and ahhs of passerbys peeking in the window.

Alas, pride goes before a fall. In my excitement, I accidentally purchased the wrong tree--a smallish Grand Fir. Eghh. Well, if that is my greatest disappointment of the day, it really is not a bad day at all.