The living room.

The irony is that all year I'm killing trees, especially balsam firs which grow like weeds here. They tend to grow thin and tall quite often because they grow in clusters and they're the first ones to break in high winds and from bugs and woodpeckers. Not good to have beside the house. I fire scores of truckloads of these things through the chipper.

And then of course my sweetie goes out an buys one two weeks before Christmas. She wants a perfect, cultivated tree.

Strange life.