As long term readers know, almost every year I plant a newly purchased Christmas tree in a large wooden pot, hoping that it will survive Christmas and then flourish outside until I can bring it in for the following Yuletide. On one occasion my tree lasted two years, most years including 2024, it died before getting a second run out and became part of the bonfire night celebration.
And thus Joshua and I headed off this morning to a place near Chester zoo to buy a new tree. Most places seem not to sell ones with roots and those that do had a selection of trees that can only be described as midgets. We found one place that had a five foot tree.
In theory that will grow at a rate allowing it to sit in our hall for several Christmases. In practice I suspect it will not.
For this tree I paid £55. If I wanted a nasty plastic pot as well, I did not, that would have been £58. Truly we are all in the wrong business. The place was packed and if only I did not have the killer touch when it came to Christmas trees I would be quitting journalism and starting planting up the fields right now. It really is money for old rope.
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