Hereafter to be referred to as Quick Decision Weather.
Gram's tree: "A little taller than you, Claire, and fat."
Our tree: "Reach-to-the-stars-tall and on the skinny side."
The Laurel and Hardy trees we could call them, Stanley and Ollie to friends.
We zip our coats, put up our hoods, and run. Up the hill, grab the saw, grab the measuring pole. Within thirty seconds we find Gram's tree. Without being asked twice, the oldest son saws it down. Hello, Ollie! Run on down the lane. Five minutes later, at the most, we find ours. Saw, saw, saw, down it comes. Hello Stanley!
Run down the hill. DONE!
And soaked through.
And full of happiness.
And when we got home...sunshine. Of course.