Growing up Jewish, we didn't have a Christmas Tree. We had a tree, but my mom called it a Hanukkah "bush." It was of the artificial tree species, with color coded branches to help guide her through the assembly process. Mom hung blue and white lights on the tree, big blue (and red?) ornaments, and candy canes. Old candy canes. We were not allowed to eat from the tree; my mother preferring to re-use the $1 for a box of 12 treats. When we were given the green light to partake in the sugary goodness, the canes were much too old to enjoy. The tree was kept in our basement on the dance floor (yes, we actually had a parquet dance floor, complete with strobe lights), and in true ying and yang fashion, stockings were hung on the fireplace. We also had a Menorah upstairs in the kitchen. My mom tried to remain true to her roots, while sprinkling a little Catholic holiday cheer. And people wonder why I converted.
Given my history, I've never had the opportunity to have a real Christmas Tree. That and the fact that Cyndi is allergic to pine. Our family tradition also includes an artificial blue spruce. No complaints, but after spending an hour with some friends from work at their family Christmas Tree farm, I kind of wish I could experience the way the other half lives. I'd hate for Cyndi to be uncomfortable, sick, near death, or anything bad, but the process--some may say, tradition--of getting a tree seems really cool.
Nick Fink (the heir to the Douglas & Connie Firs Christmas Tree Farm) may argue otherwise. His family has had the farm for years because, as his parents--Douglass and Connie Fink--told me, it was an investment for their kids' college funds. Now that Nick and his brother are adults, the elder Finks have satisfied their goal, but continue to pass on their worthwhile wares to the Zanesville community.
It's a pretty cool process. Excited families pull up to the farm and begin eyeing the tree they feel will fit perfectly in their home. The Fink family happily approach their customers, offering advice and a gas powered chain saw. When the winning tree is selected, it is--within seconds--released from its trunk. Two Finks carefully carry the tree to a cart on the back of a tractor, and the entire family is treated to a brief ride back to base camp. The tree gets a quick ride itself, on a tree shaker, to release any loose needles (and there are plenty). Families are offered hot cider and a few additional helpful items (like a bag for the tree when it is ready to be discarded), while the Finks tie the tree to the roof of the vehicle; just like a deer during hunting season, I would guess.
We really enjoyed hanging out at the farm today. We enjoyed seeing the trees, drinking the cider, meeting the Fink family. The kids got to run through the trees, take a ride (twice) on the tractor), see and experiment with a real rotary dial phone, and enjoy an additional work through the farm with a very patient Nicole Fink (yep, it's Nick and Nicole--husband and wife). Even though we didn't tie a tree to our car, it seems like I got to experience the whole ordeal.
Maybe we've started a new Fosco Family Tradition.
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