A few tips about finding that perfect holiday gift

By Matt Reese

It was three days until Christ­mas. And, though I had no gift for her yet, my wife had dropped less-than-subtle hints that she wanted a new pair of boots for Christmas.

I have always steered clear of cloth­ing pur­chases for sev­eral rea­sons. First, I never have any idea what my wife likes. In fact, if I pick the ugli­est thing in the store, that is typ­i­cally what she likes best (it is usu­ally also the most expen­sive thing in the store). In addi­tion, I never know what size she wears and I hate going to stores.

I was pre­pared last year, because I asked my sis­ter about my wife’s foot size and I was told it was 7. So, I went to a store just down the street from my office. I walked in and quickly iden­ti­fied ugli­est pair of boots. It was the last pair, so they must have been very pop­u­lar. I cringed as I turned over the price tag, but this pair of boots got even bet­ter — “Clear­ance Sale $29.99.” I was out of the store in no time flat.

I had even impressed myself this time. Ugly boots (hideous in fact) that looked really expen­sive. My wife would love it and would have no idea what a bar­gain I had gotten.

I could hardly con­tain my excite­ment Christ­mas morn­ing when my wife opened her gift. She opened the box and her eyes got wide.

“Hmm­m­mmm…”

This was not the exu­ber­ant response I was expecting.

My wife did like the style, but appar­ently her foot had grown sub­stan­tially in the last cou­ple of weeks because she informed me that she wore a size 9, not a 7. In addi­tion, this was a Girl’s Size 7, not a Woman’s Size 7 (I was unaware there was a dif­fer­ence). And, to top it all off, this was a pair of slip­pers, not boots.

To make up for my multi-pronged inep­ti­tude regard­ing ladies footwear, I promised I would go shop­ping with my wife to find a pair of boots that she liked and that fit. This resulted in an unend­ing after­noon in mul­ti­ple lady shoe stores, a price tag more than three times my orig­i­nal pur­chase and a trip back to the orig­i­nal store to return the wrong size, wrong cat­e­gory, wrong kind of footwear pur­chase I had made.

With this expe­ri­ence fresh I my mind from last year, I have vowed to resume my tra­di­tion of not buy­ing my wife any­thing she can wear this year.

It is a time of year that oozes tra­di­tion — gifts, car­ols, char­ity, good­will, and, at the cen­ter of it all, stands the beau­ti­ful Christ­mas tree rep­re­sent­ing the birth of a very spe­cial baby boy more than 2,000 years ago. The Christ­mas tree tra­di­tion has been around for 500 years and still cher­ished by fam­i­lies today. In north­east Ohio, many of those fam­i­lies go to the spec­tac­u­lar Pine Tree Barn in the rolling coun­try­side of Wayne County.

“I enjoy being able to see those trees grow­ing in the spring and sum­mer and then get­ting them to a fam­ily that is really excited about it. I really enjoy grow­ing the trees, but also the chance to meet the cus­tomers and make it a bet­ter Christ­mas for them,” said Roger Dush, owner of the Pine Tree Barn. “We have found that when you start doing things to make the lives of oth­ers richer, it makes your own life richer.”

The Pine Tree Barn also fea­tures a restau­rant and an expan­sive gift shop that is open all year with a focus on designer fur­ni­ture. Christ­mas trees have been grow­ing on the farm since Dush’s father started plant­ing them in 1952. Now the farm sells around 7,000 trees annu­ally, mostly Frasier and Canaan Fir.

“We want our cus­tomers to expe­ri­ence nature in a fam­ily set­ting. We encour­age peo­ple to come out, ride the wag­ons, cut a tree together, watch it be baled, loaded on the car and take it home. That is a nice expe­ri­ence for peo­ple,” Dush said. “All farm­ers are com­pet­ing against arti­fi­cial trees and we need to give the cus­tomers a rea­son to get a real tree. There is really no tra­di­tion to a plas­tic tree.”

Dush is right. You can’t pack up 500 years of tra­di­tion into a box and put it in the attic at the end of the sea­son. Like a pair of girls’ slip­pers for a lady that wants boots, a plas­tic tree is sim­ply not the real thing.

To find a Christ­mas tree farm in your area, visit ohiochrist­mas­tree. com.

This col­umn is brought to you by Ohio agri­cul­ture. Matt Reese writes for Ohio’s Coun­try Jour­nal and resides in Bal­ti­more, Ohio. Con­tact him at mkcreese@yahoo.com. For more, visit fresh­coun tryair.blogspot.com.

— — —

As Christ­mas time is draw­ing near,

We cel­e­brate tra­di­tion with cheer.

And few tra­di­tions are so fine,

As adorn­ing your home with a fir or a pine.

Fam­i­lies go out in the fresh air and fields,

To see what their Christ­mas tree search will yield,

In a Christ­mas tra­di­tion filled with cheer,

That has been tak­ing place for 500 years.

And at the Pine Tree Barn it is true,

They’ve been grow­ing trees since 1952.

Where fond fam­ily mem­o­ries are more than a few.

Tra­di­tion. Tradition.

Tra­di­tion.

Owner Roger Dush’s cho­sen profession

Is enrich­ing lives with his busi­ness progression.

His father started plant­ing Christ­mas trees.

They grew in the sun and blew in the breeze.

Then Roger expanded the busi­ness to include,

Retail, fur­ni­ture, gifts and food.

But the Christ­mas spirit resides at the heart of all,

From the plant­ing in spring and work through the fall,

Required to pro­duce a beau­ti­ful tree,

For a Christ­mas home filled with family.

What a fes­tive sight to see.

Tra­di­tion. Tradition.

Tra­di­tion.

Why all the work, for this quaint Christ­mas picture?

For to enrich oth­ers lives makes your own life richer.

That’s the phi­los­o­phy behind what is done on the farm.

In the rolling Wayne County hills filled with charm.

A real tree at Christ­mas is for fam­i­lies and fun,

And hon­or­ing the birth of God’s only Son.

And who wants a petroleum-based plas­tic tree

That was made is some far-off for­eign factory?

So hop in the car and test out the shocks,

Go out to a tree farm (put on some warm socks),

Cause you can’t pack up an expe­ri­ence like that in a box.

Tra­di­tion. Tradition.

Tra­di­tion.

Posted by Becky Brooks on Nov 24 2011. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS Feed. Both comments and pings are currently closed.