Christmas tree shopping. And chopping. As usual we went the weekend after Thanksgiving weekend, getting to the Tannenbaum Farms a little after noon when the place was so busy you'd think there would be nowhere to park, and yet we always do find somewhere. We were a quarter-hour late or so; ![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
bunnyhugger's parents had already arrived and bought the first pre-cut tree they saw, and they haven't as of this writing, to my knowledge, said how they think it isn't drinking and they bought a bad tree. So there's traditions being kept.
One tradition not kept: the little shop up front didn't have any doughnuts to go with hot cocoa, just (homemade) cookies. That's all right but when your stomach is set for doughnuts, you know what getting cookies is like. bunnyhugger got the last of the chocolate chip cookies of the bunch. I got an oatmeal raisin, or as bunnyhugger quipped, ``the worst cookie''. I like oatmeal raisin but I understand people feeling disappointed.
Also disappointing: they didn't have any Scotch pines. Or pines of any kind. The person giving directions said they were cleaned out this late in the season. We know that Thanksgiving was as late as it gets since the Republicans went absolutely nuts back in 1939-41 (check out Alf Landon's going off calling ``move Thanksgiving one week up'' Hitlerism). But it doesn't seem like it's that late. Maybe someone made a bad call about what to plant ten years ago, or however long it takes trees to grow up.
We ended up hunting around Concolors and Frasier furs, and were able to find a couple trees that, having just their lights strung on them as of this writing, are doing nicely. bunnyhugger's parents came back to see our house and meet our new rabbit, and so her father could inspect the wall repairs. This spun into bunnyhugger making some ramen for a late lunch for everyone, and then before we knew what happened they were leaving for home.
But that's the basic story of our getting our trees for this year.
Afterward, I popped over to the Quality Dairy and got some doughnuts for our coffee break.
Anthrohio Sunday began with me getting up early for the inflatables meet-and-greet. Ready to meet some inflatables? Take your shoes off and put any sharp objects off to the side and look at this ...
And this is what it looks like! A bunch of really big inflatables, full up, with people approaching and taking pictures with them and all. The pink dog here kept deflating and I'm not sure if that was because of a problem or because the owner was trying to leave early.
A couple dragons and a skunk here. Also you might be able to see a sign offering a chance to try out an inflatable suit. I didn't sign up for one. This time.
This large sea dragon you were allowed to climb on the back of and either ride bareback or lean back and enjoy the ride on the biggest air mattress you've been on! Except you'll probably slip and fall off because it turns out to be very hard to hop up with enough energy to get up there but not so much energy you can stop.
More accessible was laying on the paws or underneath the mane of this Chinese dragon that goes on considerably far back. Young kids, being possessed of mountain goat powers, would leap onto its back and climb up the fifteen feet or so before someone came over to get them down before they hurt themselves, as if you could hurt young kids with energy.
Here's your buff werewolf inflatable toyfriend looming over you.
And here's a very accessible inflated alligator that anyone could sit or lie down on.
Trivia: Processed cheese is mainly cheddar cheese pasteurized at 70 Celsius to deactivate the fermentation bacteria. Adding about 2 percent disodium phosphate emulsifies the cheese, keeping the butterfat from separating. Source: The 13th Element: The Sordid Tale of Murder, Fire, and Phosphorus, John Emsley.
Currently Reading: Lost Popeye Zine Volume 49: Look Out, Lummox!! or Who Slew Hillary Hee??, Tom Sims, Bela Zaboly. Editor Stephanie Noelle.
Inflatables
Date: 2024-12-12 08:39 am (UTC)