Only In Maine...

When you grow up in Maine, it is common that you trek out back in the woods to cut down your Christmas tree every winter. The Demchak's were no exception and ever since I can remember, that is how we did it. And even after the kids moved out of the house, that is still how my parents, John and Rhoda do it. Last weekend, the two of them bundled up in their L.L. Bean gear, hopped in the truck and drove out back in the woods to cut down the Christmas tree. Once they found a good spot, my parents jumped out of the truck, (my dad holding the chainsaw and my mom peeing her pants laughing) and made their way through the woods to find that special tree. My dad was leading the way, chopping through the tree limbs that were in their way with the chainsaw, trying to get to that perfect tree.

Once my dad would see that glimmering pine tree destined for the living room, he would cut down the 75 footer, watch it fall, then cut off the top that would fit in the house. After a few pines went timber and my parents shunned the so called 'Charlie Brown' trees, they found the perfect one that would be ideal for the Demchak house. My mom, still peeing her pants, watched as my dad strapped the trees to the back of the truck with chains. The two found the perfect tree and not to be wasteful, a few others to use in the dining room and maybe even to make a wreath. Only in Maine....