Christmas tree hunt

Ben and I were super excited about getting our very own real Christmas tree this year.  In the past we haven't, because a) there wasn't room in our smallish apartment, and b) we travel for a week around Christmas, so the tree would be all thirsty...

So, Thanksgiving rolls around and we talk about getting our tree.  We discover that we have two different ideas of what this tree-getting will entail.
Ben imagines us going to a tree farm and pointing to the tree of our choice and an eager-looking young lad running over with a handsaw and cutting our prize tree down and wrapping it up for us to strap to the car (like his family used to do -- and I did it with them once -- it was fun!)
I imagine us driving the Jeep up the hill and into the woods, finding a decent tree and Ben chainsawing it down and cutting it to a reasonable size and dragging it through the forest back to the Jeep (like my family used to do, minus the Jeep).  Plus, my reasoning is that we're not exactly rolling in the dough right now since neither of us is exactly working, so how can we pay someone for a tree when we've got 70 acres of woods in our back yard?  "Let's just give it a go," I say.  My logic is rock solid; Ben can't refute it.  I strap Bob into the Ergo; we buckle into the Jeep.  It was warmish and super muddy.  We parked the Jeep at the top of the hill on the main trail and ventured out to walk in the woods.
Right away I spotted some perfectly viable candidates: a bit thin, perhaps, but nothing like Charlie Brown's tree.  Ben disagreed; unfortunately neither of us took any photos of our options as proof so you'll have to believe whoever you want to.
These are the photos we did take...

Ultimately we came away from the tree hunt empty-handed.  I guess I wasn't thinking about the fact that when my family used to go out in the woods at Gram's to fetch our tree, a large part of the "woods" was the tree farm next door.  So, I guess that's a little different than a natural forest, where the pines don't look anything like Christmas trees.

Our second option was to go to a tree farm and buy a tree.  But... Gramps and Kay happen to have a full size artificial ("fake" to me; I was just trying to be polite) Christmas tree stashed away in the cellar.  I all but refused to consider using that tree; I wanted a real tree.  I want to smell pine in the house.  I want to get stabbed by the pokey branches.  But then the responsible little voice in my ear started saying, "Remember how you thought it would be better to not spend money on a tree?" and, "We're still going away for a week at Christmas..."  Ben I think secretly wanted to use the fake tree all along: "It already has the lights on it!  No pine needles and sap everywhere!"  Plus, let's be honest: we both knew who would get stuck doing the majority of the hard work (that would be Ben).

Normally my love and I go to bed as a team, but I was extra tired that night so I turned in early.  And when I awoke in the morning -- the tree was all set up!  Even bare, it wasn't that bad, and I figured that once we got some decorations on there I could probably live with it.  And I can.  In the dark you would hardly be able to tell it's fake if you were a person who couldn't smell.

So that's that.  All in all it's probably for the best.  As much as Bobby would appreciate having a real tree in the house, it would probably be a disaster.

PS... Special thanks to my mom for mailing me a big box filled with all the ornaments she's been saving for me all my life; they make all the difference in making our Christmas tree feel homey and real.  Mom, you are awesome.