Shoot, photo shoot

Update concerning the post about Margot: the very day I roasted her, she became the first of my children to call a sibling a 'butt'.  "Geogie (no R) is a butt."  I disagree.  

My dear mother got a new camera, and my family had the honor of helping her get to know its ins and outs during a Christmas tree hunt.  The land around us still belongs to the man we bought our farm from, and every year he so graciously lets us cut an evergreen from his collection 'as long as we don't tell anyone.'  So now you can't tell anyone, either.

Found it!

First year chopper.

This series of Georgianna- ears folded down under mom's large hat (hey, it went with the color scheme), eyes closed with conviction over the spirit-led song she's making up and belting out, inspired by the wonderment of it all- makes me want to freeze her at age 4 forever.

Still singing...

"Look at that, a giant cat..."

"Oh dear Creampuff, I love ya."

This makes me think of Chevy Chase and his epic tree.

(this makes me think of Chevy too...)
Every year we pass this old station wagon on our way out to the tree plot.  Inside it's filled with weeds and moss and glass and springs and rust and tetanus.  But what are we if not brave?  For the sake of our Christmas card, we gathered our courage and prayed that our winter gear would transform into Kevlar for just as long as it took to get a spectacular picture (but we had limited time, so this is as good as it got).

Merry Christmas from the Toftnesses, a month late but keeping the spirit alive!