Speaking of trees…
For most of my life, dad and I (sometimes a sister) would go cut a “Christmas tree” from the vacant property next to our house. We were the last home on a dead end street.
A dirt road lead to an abandoned quarry and a farm adjoined the quarry. And dad wasn’t spending 10 bux on a tree from the shopping center parking lot.
Our Christmas tree never had any real shape. But was smothered with lights (yes those big ones) and glass balls and 100 lbs of tinsel.
