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We weren’t sure if our truck would make it down the logging road to the Little River, but we took a chance, and despite some slipping and sliding, we were able to get out there to put our kiln to bed–to collect the last of our things that had been left when we lurched, exhausted from the scene after a long 8-day firing…our beloved coffee percolator, some of the pots that didn’t make it into the kiln, other pots that didn’t make it out, and our kiln shelves.

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I collected greenery for making wreaths, and we found the perfect tree…tall enough to reach the flying bicycle at our church (you’ll see). And don’t worry:  we make sure we are cutting one that is growing close to other trees that will benefit from increased light, and that will grow stronger and healthier with some space, less prone to stunting and disease. After Xmas, I’ll use the needles to acidify the soil around my blueberry bushes, and then we’ll burn the remaining wood in our wood stove in Queenstown, for warmth. It is a sacrifice.  So after we sang “O Christmas Tree” and said a little blessing, Horus made the first cut with the axe, and then Lee gave Horus a lesson, and we were all impressed by dad’s woodsmanship, and then he yelled “Timber”, and it fell down beautifully, with a satisfying *thump* and a puff of snow.

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Pictures of our decorated tree soon!

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xo