Wrinkly Bits
A Blog by Gail Cushman
I was busy with my usual writing habit the other day when Cowboy came in, clad in his heaviest coat, stocking cap, gloves, and pacs, carrying an axe and a saw, and said, “Time to go, Miss Gail. Better find a heavy coat and gloves.”
“What for,” I cooed, (not really cooing, you know, probably more like a cackle), “Where are we going? I’ve got a blog to write and it’s cold outside, possibility of snow.”
“We are going for a tree,” he said, “Dress warmly. And, yep, it probably will.”
“Okay. Where are we going? Walmart? Tractor Supply? Dillards? Could we get a wreath, too, and maybe a new star for the top? How about lights? I need to do some shopping for the grandkids, too, and I’ll need to go to Dillards and maybe Target. I’ll be ready in a jiffy.” I was already on my way to change into something presentable to go shopping in the big city.
“Walmart? No way, we are going to the forest. My grandson and his three little guys are on their way. We are headed to the national forest, up near Luther, and we’ll find a good one. You know, cut our own. Do you want a big one or small? I’d rather have a big one because we aren’t here every year. When we are here, we need to go big time. My grandson’s bringing hot dogs, chips, and a match to build a fire with. We can roast the hot dogs over the fire. You’ll love it.”
What was he talking about? The national forest? The fire? Doesn’t he know that we can buy a tree, real or artificial, at Tractor Supply or another store and we can do our Christmas shopping there, too? And we can go out for a real lunch at one of the many restaurants in Billings. The kids can see Santa and I can enjoy a glass of wine!
“Nope,” he said, “we always go to the forest, it’s a tradition, thirty years of tree chopping. I already got the permit…it’s free, and you can pick any tree you want, big or small. We’re taking the truck, so it can be really big. The kids will be here anytime, so it’s time to get moving.”
I looked outside and noticed huge snowflakes drifting down, maybe harder than drifting, pelting was more like it, and the driveway was already covered with snow. But being the good sport that I am, I decided that I needed to add a few layers of clothing, find wool socks, boots, and choose a stocking cap. One Montana lesson that I’ve learned is that there is no such thing as bad weather, rather it’s insufficient clothing. Maybe long john would have been best, except that I don’t have any.
Off we went, the six of us, two vehicles, two saws, two axes, and Cody, who wasn’t so sure that he wanted to be any part of this trip, but he always jumps in to the truck. The road was snowy, then more snowy, then the pavement disappeared and we were on gravel or something, with four-inch deep ruts all over the road. (Cody fell off my lap about a dozen times.) We saw at least a dozen perfect trees. Then, I saw a rock about two feet high in the middle of the road, which was my signal to make these boys stop, I shouted, “STOP. HERE. NOW. I mean it,” and Cowboy did.
“First thing is a fire” he said, and he tasked me with keeping Cody under control, while the other five males looked for wood, which, of course, was in varying stages of wetness. Finally, the fire took hold and Cody and I found a rock and plopped down. Cody saw an unknown prey and decided to take after it, but I held firm.
Hot dogs, s’mores, and chips, appeared and then disappeared as the boys downed them. Then they all disappeared into the forest, looking for the exact right thing. “Come over here and let me know what you think“ was the shout from 20 acres away. Cody and I trudged over downfall to this happy group, two grown men and three miniature guys all looking at me like they were showing the prize steer at the county fair. “What do you think, Grandma?” Oh, my, the largest boy just called me “Grandma” and right then, I knew this tree was ours and my heart was lost. When that very boy reaches toward eighty years old, I pray that he comes into these mountains and builds a fire, eats hot dogs, and tells stories about Grandma.
If you enjoy Gail’s blogs, you can see them all on her website gailcushman.com. All her books are available there, too.
