Yesterday DH and the girls led a small expedition up the mountain to cut Christmas trees. The farm used to be a Frazer fir Christmas tree farm years ago, and there are still a good number of trees up here, though they’ve all gone feral—-untrimmed, hemmed in with briars, eaten on by goats and cows. But there are still plenty of pretty ones, especially if you top a tall one—it just makes for a wilder looking tree. So we have three in the backyard to choose from, and then the other two will go to a couple of neighbors who can’t really get out to get their own.

ED has been sick—there is some weird bug going around that involves throwing up and cold symptoms. She has a wicked cough, and I thought that was what was making her throw up, because that’s actually pretty standard for her—-to cough til she vomits—-but the timing isn’t really lining up. Who knows? Bernard has had it, too, but she only threw up once (and immediately turned to me and said,”I am so hungry—can I have something to eat?”).

C* is coming up today to buy a chicken to eat. She is going to kill and clean it herself, so this should be interesting! I’m impressed by people who are willing to do that—seems like if you’re going to eat meat, you need to at least be able to face the facts about where it comes from.