This weekend we traveled up the road to a new Christmas Tree farm. It was a small family farm that just opened this year. We rode in on a horse-powered drawn wagon driven by The Son-in-law, complete with hay bales and cuddly fleece blankets that I didn't want to use because they were too nice. When we arrived we were greeted by The Father of the joint and then shown around the 7 acres of trees. It didn't take us long to find the perfect tree but we had to keep exploring so we took a jaunt through the "forest." Being out in the woods apparently induces the need to pee, so Doug found his own perfect tree (tacky, I know. But don't worry because it wasn't a Christmas tree, just a tree in the woods). The kids had a ball knocking snow off of the trees and onto one another. At the end of our adventure, I payed The Daughter in the gift shop full of handmade loot, and we all gathered around the bonfire and roasted marshmallows with Father. Back down the hill to see The Mother and tell her how much we loved the farm and will be back next year.