The best gift you can give yourself (your friends! your family!) is some time outdoors with some genuine folk having genuine fun.  Snowline Tree Farm outside Molalla, Oregon fits the bill on all counts.  Even if you think you’ve already got the holiday tree covered, I’d scoot out to Snowline tomorrow (Dec 23) for the experience of perching on a hay bale and being pulled by a cheery red wagon.  Santa and his reindeer have nothing on this ride!  Give the tree you choose to someone who hasn’t been able to afford one this year – everybody wins.

PS – Did you remember to tell everyone you know who wishes they could visit Oregon about the photo contest??  They’ll love you for it. www.visitmytree.com

THE GIFT (A serial, part three)

     The little tree answered, “My name is Connie, short for Coniferous. How can I be so special? My work is to provide a house for the birds, and to shelter the rabbit that sleeps under my boughs. This past summer I had three families of birds living in my branches. What will they do without me to provide for them?”

     “The Boss will take care of them,” said Morty, “besides, the many trees of the forest will help them. It is a great honor to do something special for Jesus’ birthday. Then, after Christmas is over, I will use your branches to warm my house. Please do it.”

     Connie hesitated a bit and said, “If I choose to accept, then I am giving myself totally to the Baby Jesus. I will live only as long as the sap within my branches will support my needles.”

     “I realize that,” said Morty, “that’s why I picked you. You are magnificent and when I am finished dressing you, I know you will please Jesus, and make him smile. I will have my friends string popcorn beads, painted pine cones, icicles, and snowflakes on your branches. I will lay strings of colorful lights on your boughs. Near the lights, I will hang crystal ornaments to reflect the light onto the needles of your branches. On your top stem, I will place a crystal star. You will look stunning. I’ll play Christmas carols and sing while I’m decorating so we can get into the spirit of Christmas.”

     Connie agreed that pleasing Jesus on his day was important. He knew that Christmas day was special. This was his chance to do something he could not do if he remained in the forest and grew up for the wood mill harvest. Finally, Connie said,
“It will be an honor to be your gift to Jesus.

To be continued . . . .

THE GIFT (A serial, part 2)

     Farmer Jim drove the tractor, and Morty sat on the trailer. When they reached the field Morty jumped off. With a saw in his hand he began to search for the perfect tree.

     He wanted a shapely tree with branches all around. It could not be too big because his room was small. Morty wandered among the trees searching. Most were already five to six feet high or taller. Many had bare spots and deformed branches. With so many trees picking one was not easy. On the way to the farm, when he flew over the trees on his scooter, they all looked beautiful, but at ground level, they did not look as perfect.

    Morty began asking the trees for help. “Please help me find the tree I need,” he said. “I want it to be as tall as I am. It must not be too wide. My tree will have a triangular shape, and full branches all around.” The trees responded by saying they were once exactly like that, two or three years ago.

     After searching the forest for a long time, Morty stopped in front of a very tall tree.

The high tree said that he could see over the tops of all the other trees, and could see the tree that Morty wanted. “Follow this line of trees next to me,” the big tree said, “count off twenty trees, turn left, then count another five trees. There, in the center of a small clearing will be the perfect tree.”

     “Thanks,” said Morty. He took the tall tree’s directions, and counted the trees as he walked. When he reached number twenty, he turned left and counted five more. There, in the center of a small clearing stood a beautiful spruce tree.

     It was blue-green, and perfect. Morty stopped and stood still. He was speechless. He walked around the tree, looking for bare spots. He found none. It was as tall as he was too. The shape was a near-perfect cone. As he walked around the tree, he began talking to himself, “This tree will make a perfect present for my boss’s birthday party.” He admired the tree from all angles and could not find a single flaw. He finally broke his silence and spoke. “I’m Morty Angel, would you like to be my gift to Baby Jesus this year?”

To be continued . . .

The Covert tree farm stretches across the countryside with pine trees of all sizes. Morty Angel can tell the age of the trees by how tall they are. The trees along the road to the entrance are a good example. Field number one has twelve foot trees. Next, is a field of ten’s then a field eight’s. Occasionally, a field was bare with only stumps protruding from the ground.

Morty came to the sign ‘Covert Tree Farm, Christmas Trees for Sale,‘ next to a road that led into a grove of very old spruce trees.

The tall trees shaded the forest floor, and kept it dark. The driveway was curvy, and made from gravel. Morty could hear birds flitting between trees. Beams of sunshine peeked through the trees. They looked like spotlights shining through onto the dark forest floor. Very little vegetation grew, except ferns; they require little light to survive. Morty steered his Skye Scooter through the forest over the twisty road. He was anxious to find a tree that would serve as his gift to the Boss. He saw an opening of intense light that led into a glorious meadow. This is where the tree farmer lived in a log home.

Another sign announced that parking was in the field behind the barn. A sign on the barn stated rules for cutting Christmas trees.

Rule One: Cut the tree at the ground. Do not cut in the middle of a tree.

Rule two: Use only the saw provided.

Rule Three: Bring your tree to the barn for wrapping.

Prices are $8.00 per foot.

Next to the barn, a tractor hitched to a hay wagon was running and ready to carry visitors to the cutting field. A cow mooed, and a horse whinnied from inside the barn. Chickens wandered freely around the horse and cow in the stalls, and in the barnyard pecking for seed. All around the barnyard meadow, there were trees and hills for as far as one can see.

Farmer Jim lives on the tree farm. He raises trees for a living. He sells some trees to visitors at Christmas, and he takes the very large trees to the lumber mill in the town. Farmer Jim always plants replacement trees after cutting a field. In this way, the forest continues to refresh itself. It takes forty to fifty years to grow a tree large enough to sell for lumber. It only takes ten to twelve years to grow a tree large enough for Christmas.

Morty loved scooting out to the Covert Tree farm. It is a beautiful place, peaceful, quiet, and majestic. Morty also loved to talk to the trees. When he was alone in the forest, he would hug the large ones. Farmer Jim never told anyone, but he had one very large field of old trees on his farm. He never cut these trees nor did his father, grandfather or his great-grandfather. Farmer Jim’s great-grandfather told him that the trees in this field were on the farm when he bought it. The trees in that field were very big and old. Some were more than two hundred feet tall, and the trunks were so large that the farmer could not stretch his arms around the base. Morty really loved these trees. The largest tree was several hundred years old. It lived through much of the history of our country. The big tree was a teenager when the very first settlers moved to the valley from the east.

Today, Morty came to the tree farm because he wants to surprise the baby Jesus on his birthday with a spruce tree. Morty will decorate the tree to make it special. He parked his scooter behind the barn, read the rules, picked up a saw, and rode out to the field of trees on the hay wagon.

To be continued….

Visiting a Tree Farm, Nursery, or Garden Center can be a fun and relaxing time. Looking at all of the plants, shrubs, and trees and envisioning how they will fit into your landscaping plans. But there are some crucial things you need to look at before you buy; otherwise your beautiful plant or tree, that looked so good when you bought it, will turn your landscape into an eyesore.

A True Story:

Nancy loves plants and trees, nature, and wildlife; but she just bought a new house in a new development that has minimal landscaping and no privacy. Spring Time comes and Nancy is excited to enhance her landscape. So Nancy goes to her local garden center to pick out some plants and trees. She is so happy when she arrives; all the plants and trees look so nice. Nancy wants instant privacy so she picks the biggest trees they have, but they are too big for her to handle so she has the garden center deliver and plant the trees. She watches as the crew at the Garden Center moves her trees off to the side. She cringes as they pull her tree out from the others because she can hear the branches breaking as they get caught on the other trees.

A year goes by and the trees that Nancy had planted just don’t look as nice as they did in the garden center. Some of her Spruce Trees have brown branches on the bottom and they look kind of yellow. Nancy calls up the garden center to complain, they come out and say that the tree is fine and is just a little stressed. They say it will fill out next year and will look great. “OK” Nancy says.

Well, next year comes, and Nancy’s Trees do not look any better, but it is still not dead and by this time its warranty has expired. Year after Year the tree looks to barley hang on. The branches are thinning and slowly the tree passes away. Now Nancy wishes she had never bought those trees. If only Nancy had read my article she could have had a tree that will always look as good as it did the day she bought it.

Don’t be Nancy!

Here are some things to Consider:

Rootball Size – This is the biggest factor of why your tree will suffer down the road. Trees need roots – The more the better! Christmas Trees look good when you buy them, but what happens buy New Years – they die. A lot of Garden Centers are selling trees that are not much better than Christmas Trees. It only makes sense from their perspective. Dirt is extremely heavy and things that are heavy become costly. They are more expensive to move, plant, and install. It is cheaper for them to have to replace a tree if it dies than to sell a tree that is destined to live. The size of a rootball will tell you how it will look down the road. If one garden center is cheaper, don’t just compare the tree but compare the roots.

How it is Watered- Many Garden Centers water their trees different ways and some don’t seem to water them at all. Once the rootball has been dried out, a lot of damage has already been done. Make sure the place where you are buying your trees is keeping them watered.

Potted or Balled and Burlapped - Do not be fooled into thinking that if you are buying it potted, somehow it is better than balled and burlapped. It is not uncommon in the industry for a tree to be dug out early in the spring and placed in a pot, instead of placed in burlap. All this does is make you think that it was grown in the pot. Be sure to ask how long it has been in the pot. If you get a balled and burlapped tree make sure that the burlap and wire basket is tight; if it is loose, root damage will occur when it is moved around.

Warranty – This is a big misconception, I have replaced many of my competitors’ trees that supposedly had a warranty, but the tree was not dead – just 1/2 dead and ugly – so they don’t replace it. Other times the customer was told by the garden center that they did not water the tree and they were not going to replace it. While the customer might have not given it the proper amount of water at all times, if you get a tree that has a larger root system you have a lot more wiggle room to make mistakes.

How it is Handled - The more a tree is handled the more root damage can occur. The best is if a tree spade, mounted on a truck moves it directly from the field to your yard. If you cannot go that route make sure that they are using the proper equipment to plant the trees. Few things are worse for a tree than to be dropped, kicked, pulled, and pried; this is what will happen if they are not using the proper equipment to plant the tree.

If you follow these guidelines you can be confident that your trees will look good years down the road and that your tree becomes an investment to your landscape and not an expense. The tips I gave you here are what sets my Garden Center located near Milwaukee, Wisconsin – apart from many others. If you have just bought trees from a garden center and are worried about making sure that you tree is watered adequately please take a look at my online Tree Nursery for watering instructions. We serve Ozaukee and surrounding counties and have tree spades that we can use to install the trees in your yard to give you the greatest success rate of any ways of planting a tree.

I am a landscaper as well and specialize in Mature Landscaping; and do landscape design, privacy screens, berms, tree lines, bed maintenance, mulching, and much more. By Mature Landscaping you will make an Instant Impact to your yard and will be able to enjoy it for years. With my tree spade I can plant, move, and install Big Trees that will provide instant privacy and shade. I have a large selection of trees for sale (evergreens, shade trees, ornamental, and flowering) on my website along with many other helpful hints and detailed information about a variety of different trees.

Well, behind schedule.  As usual.  But, I do have a winner, and few tidbits to share.

First, the winner.    I was going to have my kids choose a random number to help me decide who would get the book, but then I kept forgetting to ask them to help me out (typical me– I always think of these things when they are at school or asleep).  In the end, I decided that since this is my first giveaway that I would give the book to my first commenter.  I was especially pleased with this easy decision, and doubly delighted because I liked Alexandrea M’s comment.  I will hopefully be getting her copy of I’m Dreaming of a Green Christmas out to her as soon as I can!

Thank you all for commenting, and I loved reading the ideas.  In fact, I loved them so much I’m going to share them (along with a few of my own) over the next few days.  Starting now.

Green Xmas Tip #1: Buy your tree thoughtfully.

I’ve been around and around again on the ecological impact of the xmas tree, but I think Alexandrea’s comment sums it up nicely:

“We had planned to get a reusable tree because it can be such a hassle to go pick ones up ever year, and it would last a lifetime, but after looking into the chemicals and non biodegrability of the products, we have decided to just purchase fresh trees from local smaller sellers.”

Christmas is not Christmas without a tree for me, and there was no getting around that, especially once I had children and wanted to share my traditions with them, but they do seem a little wasteful.  I was briefly intrigued by the idea of an artificial, but I have this thing about plastic vegetation.

If you are still debating artificial vs. real, I think real wins out. See www.christmastree.org for a rundown on this debate (yes, this is slanted as they want you to buy fresh trees, but still a good overview). Sierra Club also has a nice rundown on this, and I especially like their image of an “alternate” to both–a graphic tree on the wall.

My in-laws have a little fake one and I had this discussion with my mother-n-law one year.  She argued that her tree has been going since the 1980’s and still truckin’.  Of course, my argument is that my tree (besides smelling a whole lot better) will end up as compost in my city, and hers will (eventually) be part of a landfill wasteland.

If you are going real with the idea that it will be turned into compost as part of a city or other program, do make sure not to flock it.  I repeat, do not flock your tree.  And I would suggest not over tinseling it, as all ornaments and tinsel need to be removed to compost it.

The second consideration when buying an xmas tree is whether to buy it from a tree farm or not.  We opt to buy ours from a local tree farm  because we feel like we are supporting local agriculture and businesses.  It is slightly more expensive, but we make it a family event and take our time.  We enjoy the ride out (not far as we live about 15 minutes from an enclave of tree farms), take our time selecting, and always have a hay ride and a bag of popcorn before heading home.

And that is what xmas is about for us.  Family and tradition.  And food.

 Welcome to the weekly series, Growing up Green.  This will be your eco-friendly stop for green, all-natural, toxin and chemical free tips for your family.   Learn simple and meaningful ways to make your children’s environment a little safer for their health and the earth.

Image from apartment therapy

This has been a long time debate with strong supporters on both sides.  There are pro’s and con’s to both real and artificial trees but after breaking down the data there becomes a clear Green Star.

 Artificial Christmas Tree

Green:

•    1 tree last for years, on average 6-9 years
•    Savings on gas to and from tree farms yearly

UnGreen: 

• Most trees are petrolium-based and are made of plastics, including toxic and non-biodegradeable PVC and metals
• They will therefore sit in landfills for hundreds of years
• Older trees may contain lead.
• Significant resources are required to provide energy for factories to produce artificial trees
• 85% of artificial trees are made in China according to the National Christmas Tree Association

Real Christmas Tree

Green:

• Real trees do not cause deforestation, most come from tree farms
• Tree farms provide natural habitat to animals
• Tree farms absorb CO2 and emmit fresh oxygen.     
• Christmas trees in the US provide enought oxygen for 18 million people daily – wow!        
• Tree farms help prevent erosion
• Real trees can be treecycled into mulch for your garden, learn more about treecycling here.  Find a location near you here.  In Columbus, Ohio bring your tree to SWACO for drop off.   Contact here or here for pick up.     If you would like to take home the mulch from your tree try Kurtz Brothers.  

UnGreen:

•  Gas required driving to the tree farm each year
• The use of pesticides and herbicides on the trees (except on organic farms)
• Trees purchased in areas that cannot grow them, where the tree must travel a distance to make it to the tree lot (however travel from state to state uses less resources than traveling overseas)

The Green star goes to….. the real tree!  Read about different types of trees available and care for your tree.  Also check out these top 10 Christmas Tree myths.

 Family History

My family has had a long tradition of cutting down our own tree.  As a child we went the day after Thanksgiving 45 minutes down the road to a tree farm.  We hunted for the perfect family tree.  I usually wanted the largest tree possible with long, soft needles, such as the white pine.  My mother usually went for a smaller fir tree with short, strong, and stiff needles.  We have alternated over the years through different types.  I enjoyed watching my dad cut down our special tree.  My dad took out the back bench of our van and sometimes let my sisters and I sit in the back with the tree (probably not the safest idea, but we thought it was soo cool at the time).  We kept the tree outside for a few weeks before brining it in to decorate.  My dad played Christmas music and made popcorn while decorating the tree.  Eggnog and hot chocolate were often part of the event.  My mom always did the lights and we all helped with the ornaments.  It was a fun family tradition.

 The Next Generation

Family Fun

Last weekend we headed 20 miles to Homestead Farm  in Alexandria, Ohio.  We had such a positive experience last year that it was a no-brainer to head back to the same farm this year and hopefully many years to come.  Jack thoroughly enjoyed the tractor ride to the field.  Tractors and trucks are very exciting to Jack.  We enjoyed a pleasantly sunny and warm day and plenty of trees to choose from.   We found a winner right away but explored the field for a while to enjoy the fresh air before heading back to the barn.  We chose a 7ft white pine; perfect for the spot we planed for it in our home.  Its amazing how much smaller the trees look outside compared to in the house! 

The winner

Tractor Ride

After the tractor ride back to the barn we enjoyed a warm cup of hot chocolate and cozy fire.  We brought our tree home and put it in water immediately at the recommendation of the staff at Homestead.  It guzzled quite a bit the first few hours then slowed.  Jacked helped mom put the lights on and Dad helped with the ornaments.  Jack tried to take off the ornaments as fast as we put them on.  There are an unusually large amount of ornaments on the top of our tree with a desolate base.  Ever time Jack takes one off we place it up higher.  And of course we played Christmas and burned a fire while we worked!  I can’t wait to see Jack’s face light up when he sees our tree on Christmas morning!  I think it will probably be even more exciting and rewarding than experiencing it as a child myself.  Read more about American Tree Farms

Homestead

Find a farm near you to cut down your Christmas tree in Ohio

Trivia:  Who developed the first artifical christmas tree in 1930?  Answer

Chris knows a guy, who does fix-it work at Fed-Ex sometimes, he is supposedly retired, but what is “retired” these days? in America?
With the so-called retirement pension being eaten up by greedy guys making poor and in-experienced decisions that affect the rest of us hardworking fellows? What? Where was I?

Oh, just a tiny, itty-bitty rant.

So, anyway, this guy, Chuck or Charles is his name, I mean that Chris has always called him Chuck, but when we were introduced, he told me Charles, so Charles has the Tree Farm out in Sandy, Oregon.  Or Nursery, he has many trees, and some specialty pines, he walked us around and gave us “the Tour”.

And helped us pick a tree from this grove, any tree we wanted, “Merry Christmas” he says. We got us a nice 7-foot Noble, with beautiful full branches.

While we’ve come out here every year for the last four or five to get “the Tree”, this is the first year I actually meet Chuck/Charles for myself.   Once the tree was picked, sawed and safely stowed away in the truck with Scooter, the guys commenced that thing all guys do…standing around talking with their hands shoved in their pockets.

This is universal guy language for ‘”we’re just hanging out, chewing the fat, etc”.  I bet I could go to Iraq and see this same pose, of course, the discussion would probably differ.

I took pictures.

Scooter and “the Tree” in the back of the pickup.  I threw his ball into the back of the tree and watched him route the thing back out.  

“I can’t find it Mom!”  Notice how he is completely ignoring his stick…the ball is all that matters.  Eventually he gets it out, and the game starts anew.  He never tires of it.

On the way back home, we stopped at the Redland Cafe and had a classic All-American Meal:  Cheeseburgers, Fries and a Soda.  It was the perfect way to end the Tree Trek and a nice change from Leftover Turkey Stuff.

Not that the Pioneer Woman’s “Leftover Turkey Pot Pie” didn’t turn out really yummy, mind you!

and the turkey sammies, and and last nite I started the Turkey Noodle Soup, by boiling, cooling and de-boning all the bones.  So, one can see how a nice Cheeseburger and Fries was really satisfying.

On the knitting front I finished a pair of fingerless gloves while watching Season Six of NCIS, Disc One.

Tree Farm, Eating, Knitting, all in all a very good day:)

The entrance to Quail Hollow Tree Farm

The day after Thanksgiving my family and I traveled for the second year to the beautiful Quail Hollow Tree Farm to pick out our Christmas tree. This scenic tree farm is home to Scotch and White pines, Norway spruce, Blue spruce, and Canaan fir as well as fresh-cut North Carolina Fraiser fir.  They are more than happy to provide you with friendly service, a saw, hot cocoa and an over all great experience. We stick to the Canaan fir which is literally “over the creek and through the woods” so after a bumpy downhill ride in his umbrella stroller (FYI umbrella strollers are not for off roading) my son was thrilled for the tractor ride back to the car. Should you choose to go I hope you enjoy it as much as we do.

They don’t have a website but here are the directions, hours and phone number: From Front Royal, take U.S. 340 south 10 miles to Bentonville; then left on Route 613; cross the railroad tracks; then turn left on Route 672 (Bubb Lane); follow signs into Quail Hollow Estates. Open: 9 am to 5 pm, weekends from Thanksgiving until Christmas.  540-635-9155

Happy sawing!

Every 6 weeks or so, it seems, we take a weekend or trip outside the confines of Walla Walla—this time it was to Eugene, Oregon, where one of Susanne’s oldest friends lives. We were ready for fun, good conversation, and even the potential of hunting in the woods for chanterelles.

I’ve never mentioned it before, but there’s a part of I-84 that weirds me out a little. A miles-long tree farm. It’s not that I don’t support the tree growth—I definitely do. It’s not that it take 10 minutes, at 70 miles an hour, to get past all of the trees, since I’ve driven by thousand acre woods many times before. It’s the regularity of the planting, the perfect squared distance between each tree, so that they’re plotted out on a grid, should you have the opportunity to see them from above. They look like alien-planted trees. As a person who grew up near several wooded areas, it seems weird to me that to ride my bike through these woods, I’d have to go in a straight line. That’s just . . . somehow harrowing. Driving past, the trees all start to drag on my peripheral vision. Row after row after row after row, they all point at the sky in brown-gray lines that start to resemble actual aliens. And then my head turns, just a little, because now I’m half-sucked into my deciduous voyeurism, and I notice that every so often, the space between rows is marred by one or a few fallen trees. Imperfection in the grid! Whew! And then I can get back to driving.

It’s possible I’ve lost my mind.

Anyway, we made it past the mindtrap of I-84 and continued on into first Portland, turning left to pass the state capitol, and then tucked into Eugene about an hour after dusk. It was difficult, in the dark, to get a sense of Eugene, especially from the highway, but it seemed to be the same splayed out street and residential design of Portland. Heck, it has a Trader Joe’s. Any city with a Trader Joe’s is A-OK in my book.

Susanne’s friend and her husband were happy to see us, but this moment of welcome was quickly supplanted by the greeting from their kitten, Ruby, who cantered over to us and began thoroughly sniffing our feet, ankles, and baggage. I half-wondered if she wasn’t one of the new covert drug-sniffing cats of the National Security Agency. Okay, okay, there are no such drug-sniffing cats. But heck, there could be. So she rubbed herself on us as we sat down to relax, which made me wonder: after 6.5 hours of sitting down driving, why am I sitting down to relax?

It was great to catch up; we discussed dining options and agreed to venture to Ratatouille for dinner. I kept waiting for a cute animated mouse to bring me soup, but it never happened. The all-vegetarian fare was enjoyed by all of us, 3 of whom are ex-vegetarians. I was annoyed at their idea of hummus, however. Just because chick peas are pureed and in a bowl doesn’t mean you can call it hummus—while these were supposed to be takes on the traditional preparation, they were a bit too far gone for me to hold them in the same category as hummus anymore. Or perhaps merging cilantro and garbanzo beans is good in its own right, but when I think hummus, I don’t think, “let’s have some cilantro!”

Dinner was tasty, and I appreciated that anyone would focus on creative vegetable dishes without a ton of accompanying pretense. What I was going to find out shortly, in fact, was that Eugene really doesn’t have much pretension, if it has any at all. We went next to Off the Waffle, a fairly new establishment that was just voted Eugene’s Best New Restaurant. Once again, category names don’t mean much, as Off the Waffle is a restaurant like one’s neighborhood chocolate shop is a restaurant, but I recognized I need to adopt more of the west coast laid back attitude. And I’m certainly not saying they weren’t the most ridiculously tasty waffles I’ve ever eaten. It was a quirky little storefront on the ground floor of a house, with a variety of savory and sweet versions of the Belgian liege waffle, a yeasted batter that they make with pearl sugar so they come out of the press puffy and caramelized. We sat on an old leather sectional sofa and ate out of our 100% recycled paper containers like jackals over a fresh kill. On all sides of us were the brown bags the owners use for the plain waffles—people walk in and out all day, ordering plain waffles to take home or to work, clutching the warm waffles and crinkling the bags in joy. But the bags on the wall are for decoration, each with the scribblings of some customer who was pleased enough to leave a happy, if not idiosynratic, note on the wall. It was like sitting in a room of non sequitors.

At that point, we were stuffed, so we trundled back to Susanne’s friends’ home, where the kitten was extremely pleased to see the return of her four scratching posts. And then there was Saturday.

Close to Portland...A World Away

“It just wouldn’t seem like Christmas without a tree” is a sentiment shared in most homes. The ritual of bringing a living tree inside is much older than Christmas itself. In ancient times, people of all ages would gather round evergreen trees during the month with the shortest days in the year. No matter how lifeless the rest of nature appeared, the evergreens testified that life would continue. People began to cut the branches, or whole trees, and took them inside as symbols of enduring life.

In Oregon’s Mt. Hood Territory, we gently raise Christmas Trees in plantations so that families everywhere may continue this important tradition. There are more than 300 family Christmas Tree farms here in this part of the Pacific Northwest and we work year round to grow more trees than any other region in the country. We have been called “the Christmas Tree Capital of the World!”

I invite you to make a tradition of visiting this Blog throughout the holiday season for more tidbits and ideas from the Christmas Tree Farms of Oregon’s Mt. Hood Territory.   Mary S

This year we decided to tag our tree way early. Every year, we go the weekend after Thanksgiving, and all of the good trees are already tagged – even though we think that’s pretty early for a tree. We got a cute, short, full one. The kids basically picked it out. We had to talk them out of the 2 foot tall, Charlie Brown tree, but we settled for this one:

I’ve got a few friends who get a touch of the “Ho-Hum” and “Bah-Humbug” surrounding holidays. They got out of their Grinch suits once I got them youTube’d into the inside story of an honest-to-goodness farmer/engineer and his wonder dog “Pooch.” With the wonders of the web, you can order just about everything online, including a home-grown Oregon Christmas tree. Fresh from farm to front door, your tree of choice can be received in matter of 48 – 72 hours. Whether you’re wishing for a table-topper or 16+ footer, that symbol of juniper jubilation will arrive on your step within days of having been in the field. That’s a good thing for the Green in all of us.

“We ship only premium trees, and we send them to purchasers from Alaska to South Florida. Customers tell me all kinds of stories about what makes these trees so special to them, but it often boils down to wanting a little piece of Oregon as part of your holiday,” says Paul Krebs of Coyote Hills Tree Farm. Real Christmas trees like the ones offered by farmers in Oregon’s Mt. Hood Territory this year provide habitat for wildlife, slow soil erosion, and contribute to a healthy watershed. Plus real trees are 100 percent recyclable and keep American dollars local. It’s easy to order one of these trees for your own Yuletide.     Jae H

In the olden days of Los Frios the entire town owned a single pair of shoes. When someone needed to go into the nearby city of San Juan they would take the single pair of shoes sling them around their shoulders by the laces and walk to the city. After crossing miles of rough terrain on foot they would reach the final river before entering the city. The rivers name translates from Spanish into English as, ”Wash your feet here.” There the traveler would wash his feet, put the shoes on, and strut proudly into town wearing the borrowed shoes.

I finally saw him swaggering in with an overstuffed camping pack on his back.

Saturday, September 5, 2009 9:45am I stood near the window of the cafe on the second floor overlooking the waiting area at Caribe Tours. Byron would be showing up any minute now. Eight-thirty had turned into nine and finally almost ten o’clock I was beginning to wonder what had happened to him. I went out front to smoke a cigarette finished up and walked back inside the air conditioned terminal to the waiting area on the first floor. At about eight minutes until ten I finally saw him swaggering in with an overstuffed camping pack on his back. As soon as he removed the floppy brown brimmed hat I was absolutely sure.

A couple of German tourists held him up at the airport, he explained. They split a cab into the city so he could drop them off at Pension Quisqueya where he recommended they stay. The fare for the couple came to six hundred Dominican Pesos, they only had eight US Dollars not even enough to cover half of what they owed, no Euros, nothing, just their word. “We can send you money.” They promised. The card he gave them had printed on it, Byron Holcomb, Young Tree Coffee. It would be nice if they would. With just minutes to spare we boarded up the next bus heading North toward San Juan making our way to Los Frios.

A single electric bulb sent sharp deep golden rays shining from the slats in the windows of Antonio’s house.

Saturday, September 5, 2009 6:30pm At near sunset Antonio, Byron’s farm manager and good friend, led us to the edge of one property near his house where the cell phone reception is clearest. The golden light was spilling onto Byron, Antonio, and all of the children following close behind. Another man showed up and the three of them discussed matters of the farm.

The sunset view from where they all stood looked over Byron’s property in the valley below. You could see the tall shade trees in a dense thicket which formed part of his farm. After wards the sun went down and the misty clouds made ghosts of everyone. A single electric bulb sent sharp deep golden rays shining from the slats in the windows of Antonio’s house. Eventually we walked back in the dark Byron lighting up the path with his blueish LED headlamp.

His broken leg was propped up on the couch covered with a blanket

Sunday, September 6, 2009 6:00pm “Euplina is telling me about the way things used to be in Los Frios.” Byron spoke with a wide grin on his face between one of her stories. I was listening politely but do could not understand most of what she was saying I continued eating the dinner that she had cooked for us rice and beans, boiled plantains and yukka. After dinner we all joined Lin, Euplinas husband, in their living room. His broken leg was propped up on the couch covered with a blanket, underneath crude looking bolts and screws were driven deep into the bone like someone had built a scaffolding around his limb with an erector set.

The couple who appeared to be in their sixties recounted old stories about Los Frios concerned that they might bore us. Byron however could spend hours with Lin and Euplina, and he has, having lived in Los Frios for two years as a Peace Corp volunteer. “The first time I met Lin,” Byron likes telling this story, “I thought he was going to shoot me.”

some older people complain about the passing of the olden days, they say back then there was no delinquency in society.

These days Lin who used to break wild horses and mules is recovering from a motorcycle accident from six months ago on one of the muddy steep roads. Euplina offered to heat up some milk for us then disappeared into the kitchen. Byron is like a son to them and he admires and respects them as if they were his own mother and father. He laughed again translating what Euplina had just told him, “She says that some older people complain about the passing of the olden days, they say back then there was no delinquency in society. But she also says, there wasn’t much of anything else either.”

Monday, September 7, 2009 9:00am Antonio was busy pulling up a plant from the ground, it is a tuber or root called rabano it grows the way potatoes do. “He planted this particular root because I like it so much.” Byron proudly told me, “Whenever Antonio pulls up anything he plants two or three more.” After inspecting the root they throw most of it away. “The rats have eaten it.” 

I watched as Antonio hacked away at the thickest branch of the rabano that he had pulled up holding it in the air with one hand slicing off arm length pieces with wedge shaped incisions at either end. The machete was then driven into the ground to dig a shallow hole to insert the branch. Scattered around I could see where other branches had been planted some rabano, mostly yukka, another root that is planted in the same manner.

Our synthetic woven sacks and tin buckets used to collect the coffee were placed on the ground, filled with what we had picked all morning.

Tuesday, September 8, 2009 1:00pm We had been picking coffee all morning, eight workers in a pack scouring each tree by hand, careful to leave the unripe cherries, picking only those that were ready or beyond ready. When coffee is left beyond its optimal time to be picked as a red cherry it will eventually dry on the branch in the sun, it gets shriveled up like a raisin becoming black and hard. Our synthetic woven sacks and tin buckets used to collect the coffee were placed on the ground, filled with what we had picked all morning.

The meal that morning was similar to what we had at every meal on the job, boiled plantains and yukka, rice and beans. For the most part we ate quietly, resting. Byron showed up after most of us had already started eating. “¿Como tú ta?” He asked, everyone replied, “bien” or “muy bien” One of the workers then explained in Spanish how bien is always the answer you will always hear from a Dominican when you ask how they are doing.

Local wisdom dictates that it is best to accept the present state and focus on moving forward. “I learned that lesson early on” Byron later told me about an experience he had years ago. He was visiting, sending his condolences to a Dominican family, friends of his from the area and there they were getting ready to bury the deceased when he greeted them. He says he was shocked and surprised that they could answer him saying things were good.

like rice crispy cereal, a steady smoldering snap, crackle, pop.

Thursday, September 10, 2009 1:45pm There were a million tiny pine trees all sprouting tiny little pine needles in a single tassel on a single branch each separated by the tiny round pot it grew in. In a single glance the whole life of the pine flashed before my eyes, trees at every stage of life. A bed of pine cones was laid out in the sun to harvest their seeds they crackled like rice crispy cereal, a steady smoldering snap, crackle, pop.

I returned from wandering around the property and found Byron again. “How much longer?” I asked wondering when the Sur Futuro coffee meeting would be finishing up. ”Two more hours.” he said confidently. “Really?” I asked as more of a question of the existence of an itinerary at all. “It is always two more hours when you are in the Dominican Republic.” He qualified.

Running my hands through my hair it felt course and dry, dusty and ridged.

Thursday, September 10, 2009 5:00pm Traveling up the steep clay and mud road on the bed of a four wheel drive pick-up truck there were about seven people in the back and a few more crammed into the cab. A young man on a motorcycle by the side of the road got the attention of one of the passengers sitting in the back sliding his pointed index finger along the bottom of his neck. The young woman began sobbing.

We got off the truck at Lin’s house he sat a plastic lawn chair on his patio resting his broken leg upon a second chair. It looked like an infection had been spreading. The day before he had to have it re-set because it was not lined up correctly, painfully it had been rebroken. Byron spoke for awhile explaining the significance of the Sur Futuro meeting we were just returning from. Running my hands through my hair it felt course and dry, dusty and ridged.

Lin had already heard about the death, the news of which was just reaching the young woman on the truck. Her younger sister who had been living in the United States was tragically shot when a gun accidentally went off. Lin’s father, Ramoncito a shrinking man with leathery skin who had been quietly standing nearby now joined the conversation. “Machetes are for planting yukka, guns are only for killing.” Byron translated for me.

The sun was setting making the clouds a pinkish salmon tangerine color against the clear blue patches of sky.

Thursday, September 10, 2009 6:50pm We climbed the steep hill to the top where Boliviar’s house is. From up here there is an unobstructed view of the mountains except for the tops of the pine trees and a few small bushes that form a green fence around the small dirt yard. The sun was setting making the clouds a pinkish salmon tangerine color against the clear blue patches of sky. We sat down on five simple wooden chairs Boliviar, his wife, his daughter, Byron, and myself, leaving his young boy standing by curiously watching the conversation.

It was about a copy of a birth certificate that Byron needs to square away some legal paperwork concerning land he has purchased. Byron and Boliviar dance around the subject as I watch a rooster poking his head out of a sack in the shack that is their kitchen wiggling in vain for his freedom as flames dance in the fire pit nearby. On the way back Byron was counting the amount of times has had to ask Boliviar about this paperwork while I was counted the pine tree lined peaks in the distance.

the conversation eventually turned to the weather, the flooding to be more accurate.

Friday, September 18, 2009 9:00pm “I have some terrible news,” he began. I ran into Byron a week after we had returned from the Dominican Republic. This sounded serious, I thought someone had died. “Well, not terrible” he clarified. We had run into each other at the Castleberry Hill art stroll in Southwest downtown Atlanta. “That makes it sounds like something really bad happened.” I was a bit relieved. He continued, ”I got laid off from Counter Culture.” He was still absorbing the shock of it. “What happened?” I asked, this seemed so unexpected. He explained that the company came to the decision to cut four full time positions and he happened to be one of them. He had already begun to tap his network of contacts in search of a new job.

There was not much else to say about the subject that would help and the conversation eventually turned to the weather, the flooding to be more accurate. “The Krog Street tunnel was completely under water.” Someone else in the group was saying. “One poor guy had just moved his family back into their home in cabbage town after finally finishing months of repairs from last years tornado.” His house was now a disaster once again, he has decided to call it quits, sell it for cheap, and move out.

In the DR till November 24th Byrons status update reads. It takes foresight to endure present hardship for an uncertain future yield. In environments so removed from rituals of perseverence time is perceived as a unit that mournfully slips away. “There is no such thing as not enough time.” Byron told me before he left to spend seven weeks back in Los Frios patiently harvesting this years crop of coffee. Agriculture, it is said, provided the means for civilization, that uniquely human phenomenon. Perhaps farming was the first step, the very first human act of faith, it seems an appropriate place to start again. (a)

www.youngtreecoffee.com

Passing along this announcement from AFF / Tree Farm:

Submit Your Photos Now!

Due to the overwhelming success of the past two contests, our partner in Sustainable Forestry, STIHL Inc., is sponsoring the 2009 Tree Farm Photo Contest to find another photo for their upcoming trade advertising campaign.

This means your photos of a Tree Farm could be featured as part of this national promotion and you could win a $500 gift certificate for STIHL products!  So if you are a Tree Farmer or inspect Tree Farm properties we need your photos of Tree Farms to make this contest a success!

The deadline for this contest is August 7, 2009. To participate, please read the contest rules and send us your pictures along with the contest submission form.

Take a look at last year’s winning photos:
Morning light in pine plantation
20 yr old Ponderosa Pine trees at 4500ft
Cottonwood Lane Farm

Thank you,
Tree Farm Staff

We’ve asked Jim Mackovjak, author of the forthcoming FHS book, Tongass Timber: A History of Logging and Timber Utilization in Southeast Alaska, 1804-1960, to share his thoughts on his recent cross-country bike trip and his time here in Durham. Around our office he has earned the nickname “Lawrence of Alaska” for his ride through the American desert.

When I left San Diego on my bicycle trip across the country two months ago, I envisioned evenings spent camped behind roadside billboards and nourishing meals of road-killed animal parts that, cooked over an open fire, would invariably taste like chicken. Not really. But though I had done little planning, I knew which way to go: head into the morning sun and keep Mexico on my right. Despite the facts that I had not trained at all and my equipment was very basic (though sound), some 50 gallons of Gatorade and five and a half weeks later I arrived safely in St. Augustine, Florida, none the worse for wear.

The hot, southern tier of the United States is not my customary environ. I hail from the small town of Gustavus, in southeast Alaska, where I have resided for forty years. Southeast Alaska’s climate is a bit harsh, but it is truly a region of great natural abundance, both terrestrial and marine, and offers a stark contrast to the three deserts I crossed. The bicycle ride was a lark, something I had wanted to do since I was a teenager, but work and family responsibilities had always prevented. These days, I do contract writing and my wife teaches school, and our three children are grown and off pretty much on their own. I made time for the trip.

Some of the stretches through the deserts were long, hot, and lonely, and, in my own small way, at the end of a day’s riding I felt like Lawrence of Arabia emerging from the desert on a bicycle. The first real trees I saw along the route, a juniper-like species in the hill country of Texas that reached a size that would at least provide a modicum of shade, were a welcome sight. I relished the increasing amounts of greenery as I journeyed east. I understand the importance of the pineries of the southeastern states to our nation’s wood supply, and the plantation forests, with their neat rows of evenly-spaced trees, were of great interest to me. But constantly feeling the need to push east, I never made a serious effort to learn more about them firsthand. I nevertheless enjoyed the shade they provided.

Jim Mack traveling in Texas. Trees took on a new significance to this "Lawrence of Alaska" as he biked through three deserts.

One question that I often asked myself while pedaling along was: What am I learning? I’m still not sure what the answer is, other than the fact that I had the strength and stamina to complete the trip.

I have been involved in Alaska forest issues for many years, and lamented the lack of a comprehensive history of the forest products industry in Southeast Alaska. Much of the historical record, it seemed to me, was comprised of hearsay that had been repeated for so long that it had become accepted as fact. I was presented with an opportunity to rectify that situation. In 2002, to provide our children with educational opportunities not available in Gustavus, we began spending school years in Eugene, Oregon. The routine continued for five years. Not long after arriving in Eugene I discovered that the library at the University of Oregon had an incredible collection of timber trade publications that dated from the early 1900s. I began spending my afternoons systematically going through them page by page (most are not indexed and lack even a table of contents) for references to Southeast Alaska. It was a very enjoyable endeavor.

There wasn’t a lot written about Southeast Alaska, particularly in the early years, but there was enough to give me a solid idea what was going on from the perspective of industry as well as that of government officials. The Forest Service was determined to establish a world-class newsprint paper manufacturing industry in the region, and missed few opportunities to promote its endeavor. I decided to put together a manuscript of the wood products industry in Southeast Alaska from its inception with the Russians in the early 1800s through 1960, when what I refer to Southeast Alaska’s “pulp mill era” began. The information I gathered from the trade publications, as well as publications such as Journal of Forestry, provided the framework for the history. This was later beefed up with information from archives and other sources.

Aerial view of experimental block-cutting of timber on the Tongass National Forest in Alaska, 1958 (Click image to see gallery of Alaska photos).

In Portland, Oregon, I was introduced to Bill Hagenstein, America’s oldest practicing forester and a former board member of the Forest History Society. Through him I became acquainted with the Society, which took an interest in the manuscript and later agreed to publish it. Generous grants from the Alaska Humanities Forum and several individuals and foundations have facilitated the process. The manuscript has been edited and peer reviewed, and a collection of photographs and other images has been amassed at the Forest History Society.

By coincidence, Steve Anderson, who heads the Forest History Society, had also crossed the country on a bicycle. In 1976, he and several friends bicycled from New Jersey to Seattle, where Steve began a master’s program at the University of Washington. Steve was interested in my trip and also urged me to make time to visit the Forest History Society’s office in Durham. I took him up on the offer.

At this moment, I am sitting at a desk at the Forest History Society, where Steve and I are reviewing my manuscript in preparation for the book design process. Except for a small window, I am literally surrounded by books and reports on forests. The facility is crowded, but with—to my mind—the right kind of stuff. To anyone interested in our forests and their history, the Forest History Society’s collection is a gold mine, and it is difficult for me to keep my eyes from wandering to the book shelves, because I know I will see something that will distract me from the task at hand. I joked yesterday that there is so much good material here that I could be blindfolded and sent into the stacks and the first book I picked out would be something I would want to look through. To test my theory, I later closed my eyes, went into the stacks, and picked out a book that, yes, looked interesting.

The Forest History Society’s collection is mostly “old school” hard-copy material. There are many advantages to a researcher in having access to hard-copy material. It allows us to browse relevant material in an efficient manner not possible with digital files or where material is stored off-site. Library catalogs are a good place to begin searching for material, but looking at a collection in person is, for me, more efficient and greatly preferred. I can quickly scan titles and once I have pulled a publication off a shelf I can usually assess its value for my purposes in a matter of seconds. And I have at times been greatly rewarded by perusing the books on the shelf relating to a given topic. Of course, there is nothing that can replace the most venerable search engine known: the competent librarian. I knew this before I left San Diego but relearned it during this time in Durham.

I am impressed with what I see at the Forest History Society, and hope that its collection can be maintained, remain accessible, and continue to grow. I encourage you to come visit, whether by car or by bike.

Not quite under a billboard but this campsite was under the stars in an abandoned building.

One of the many tree farms passed along the way.

All properties certified through the American Tree Farm System are required to conform to the American Forest Foundation’s Standards of Sustainability for Forest Certification.

The AFF Standards focus on the issues critical to maintaining sustainable forest practices on private forestlands in the United States, such as reforestation, air, water and soil protection, fish, wildlife and biodiversity, and wood fiber harvest. These issues, among others, comprise the nine. The AFF Standards are developed independently of the ATFS certification program by an outside panel of stakeholders.

The AFF Standards are up for renewal this year.

The 60-day public comment period on the REVISED Standards of Sustainability for Forest Certification on Private Lands begins Friday, May 1, through June 29, 2009 at 5:00 PM (EDT).

Click to learn more about the process, review the standards, and comment now.

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.

A visit to the Christmas Tree Farm   

Once again we packed up the van and took another trip with Kids Discovery.  

This time we were headed to a Christmas tree farm.

It was cute, and the kids had alot of fun.  

They had animals (pigs, goats, and peacocks) that just wooed Olivia.  

Lots of trees, which I got no pictures of, due to the fact that I was too busy being the Leader of the Line.  

The camera remained in my pocket during our march through the tree farm.  

We did get to take a Hay Ride.  That was alot of fun too.  

A perfect day for the kids.  

Now mom is pooped and needs to clean up her sewing room.

Today we had the pleasure of finding a new tree farm in Tiverton, RI where we could walk around the farm and tag our tree. We’ve always gone to the same tree farm in Portsmouth and unfortunately this year there weren’t too many trees to choose from so we had to branch out and find a new farm. This is important to me because when I was growing up my dad & grandfather had a tree farm across from my dad’s house and sold xmas trees to local residents. It was a great way to pick out a tree back then and I still like to go to a tree farm to pick out our christmas tree.

We found Boland’s Tree farm, located at 97 South Lake Road, Tiverton, RI today. It’s set pretty far back off the street and once we parked we made our way into the barn. I knew we found our place as soon as we went in! The barn smelled of horses and was decorated for the holiday season inside. They even had an area with goats and pigs. They take you on a hay ride out to where the trees are and then you are free to roam about and pick out your tree. We even passed a horse just enjoying the sunshine and nibbling on some grass on our way out to the trees. It didn’t take us too long to find our tree and at that point we just had to yell out “Danny!” and a nice gal came over to tag and measure our tree. (really, anyone will come by and tag/measure your tree if you call out “Danny!”….guess that’s the way it works there….kinda cool!)

Back at the barn they have hot chocolate and hot cider available free of charge and they also have an assortment of wreaths and ornaments for sale. All in all it was a great time and a great way to pick out our Christmas tree! I can’t wait to head back there to pick it up!!

Here’s a picture of Jay with our tree for this year…..nice!

If you’d like to go for yourself here’s the information on the tree farm:

Boland’s Tree Farm
97 South Lake Road
Tiverton, RI

1-401-625-5107
Open Friday afternoon till dark
Sat & Sun 10am till dark

Tree Farms in and around Placer County

A helpful note: Christmas Tree Recycling will be offered by the City of Roseville. Simply remove all your ornaments and drop off your tree at the designated locations on Dec. 27-28 or Jan. 3-4. For more information, contact the Department of Public Works at 645-8576 or visit www.roseville.ca.us/eu for locations.

The Home Team Girls Realtors® Real Estate Team helping you with Homes For Sale, Seller Strategies, Certified Buyer’s Agent, Bank Foreclosure Specialist, Short Sale Specialist. We use the service of a certified  Home Stager on all of our listings. For Roseville and Sacramento Realtor Services call on the Home Team Girls.