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Christmas Tree Farm
Like true Oregonians, we cut down our own tree this year. Kirchem Farm, established in 1890, and about a 40 minute drive southwest from Portland was our destination. I love visiting still-functioning historic places; it feels like I’m being transported back in time to somewhere special. I was very excited, even child-like in my anticipation. We brought along a couple of our friends and Christmas music to set the festive mood.

The farm had several varieties of trees (from the cheapest and less dense Doug Fir to the more pricy and robust Noble Fir) but most important to us was smell and the Grand Firs, according to the owners, was the most fragrant.

We trudged out through the mud and scouted around for the quintessential perfectly shaped tree. It was a bit overwhelming at first and we had trouble distinguishing the varieties of trees, even after our brief tutorial. We ended up in the land of Doug Firs and they looked rather dumpy and mutant-like with jagged tops and odd growths sprouting about.

We pressed on and came to the Grand Firs, which were noticeably different in leaf density and color. Dan and I were very discriminating, not dark green enough, not pointy enough, too many holes, not bushy enough, too round, too bushy, etc. But we settled on one finally, just as the sky gave out to the rain. We quickly hauled it on top of Dan’s truck and than helped our friends strap down their tree. We warmed up to hot cocoa and rested a bit before joining hands and dancing around our trees in spontaneous song.
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