Christmas Tree hunting

Mr. W's sister and brother in law, the Ls, came to spend Christmas with us as did my college friends the H-Gs. I thought it would be a good opportunity to go cut down our own tree since we would have extra hands. So, the Wednesday before Christmas we drove out to Estacada before heading down to the coast for 2 nights.
In the past we have just followed Ms. Mc and her husband and gone out H213 and looked for a place that looked good. But being mid week, and knowing we had an even longer drive ahead of us, I didn't want to leave it up to chance so I looked online and decided Bob'z Garden Center looked like our best option. It was like a Pumpkin Patch for Christmas trees. And it is near my Aunt R's log home so in the future we can make a nice trip and visit out of it. Anyway, they have hot drinks, a big fire pit, a shaker, and a wrapper. They also flock, but I don't believe in that on principle.
It was a wonderfully foggy morning as we headed out looking for a grand fir. I learned something on this trip. I thought I liked grand firs. It turns out the species I like is actually a noble fir. I thought that noble firs always have that crazy spacing between the branches, which I don't care for. Turns out nobles can be full or sparse; I like the full ones.
This was the tree that Our Little Helper wanted to take home, but it's far too tall. This is the tree we settled on, but he didn't like it. At all.So we had to take a family photo with out him.This was the tree he wanted. I think this is actually a grand fir. I just am not a fan of these needles. And it was too short. Poor thing is so miserable we won't take this one home.Mr. L and Mr. W cutting down the tree.Hauling it back to the car.

Showing off their skills. Neither of them grew up with real trees in Ohio so this is the first time Mr. L ever participated in cutting a Christmas tree and only Mr. W's second. With the guys carrying the tree and Mrs. L carrying the saw and camera, I was left to herd in the boys. I obviously had to carry the baby, but because he was still pitching a fit I couldn't get My Little Helper to walk back. He would only agree to a piggy back ride. Momma is always a pack mule. It was a long walk.