O Tannenbaum . . . and "French" Cookies

For years and years, we had a "faux" tree

a big nine footer

But I yearned for the smells of childhood

And so three years ago we began the tradition

of

a real tree

Alas, not many tree lots or even grocery stores

in our little town sell

real trees

(Our little town on the prairie obviously is a

faux Christmas tree kind of town!)

And so we go South

to the little town once described

by a Tourism Committee member

as "Mount Pilot"

(to our "Mayberry")

It's become a ritual

A Tradition!

Once home, it spends the night on the porch

"relaxing" it's branches.

But with the trip to "Mount Pilot",

we always stop in the little "Italian" town just north of there.

A tiny town, a mining town

where Italian ancestors came to work.

The Italian grocery in that town is but a

shadow of it's former self

But it still sells its sausages, it "gravy", and other Italian delicacies

And the best panini I've ever eaten.

So big that the two of us share one!

And always

(or at least always the last three years)

We also buy to take home

what is known in this area as

"French Cookies"

They're really Italian pizzelles

but there, they call them "French"!

By whatever name they're called

they're delicious

A taste of the Christmas season

and we always bring a bag home with us.

For once home,

we're cold and tired

(tree picking is hard work!)

and a mug of tea and some "French" cookies

revive our spirit.

The mug (one of a pair -- the other is red)

is our favorite big tea or hot cocoa mug in December.

(And a years ago Christmas gift from dear Friend Carolyn)

And a steaming big mug of Harney's Hot Cinnamon Tea

warms us from head to toe.

Tomorrow . . . we decorate the tree!

And with all the ado of unloading the tree,

Doogie retired to a wing chair

Keeping his eye on what is going on

But, alas, pretending that none of it interests him!

Dolly 

She just takes things in stride and is out chasing squirrels.