There's a lot to be said for lack of selection.
Last year's Quest for the Perfect Tree required a bit of deliberating. And by a bit I mean a ridiculously huge amount. This year's specimen was selected in less than six minutes.
We are good.
So the secret to fast-tree-picking is to go a few days into December, when the trees in your price range have dwindled to half a row and they all look equally good. Or equally bad. Either way.
Also, go on the day where it's about 12 degrees, and bring all four of your children to chatter their poor little teeth beside you. If you don't have four, borrow some to make up the difference.
The result is that everyone shuffles back and forth between fraser firs, mostly to generate a modicum of friction in a vain attempt to stave off frostbite. You sticky your gloves with tree sap, pulling out this tree and that, but it's so cold that even your opinions are numb. You pick one.
Surprisingly, when we got home and our eyesight defrosted, we found that this year's edition is no worse than any of its predecessors who required a solid twenty minutes of comparison shopping.
It's actually quite lovely, and fragrant to boot. Next year I'm aiming for two minutes flat.
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