For the last several years, we have had a tiny tree, as tiny as two feet high and fake, to about four feet high and real. We had the fake tree when Joe was working most nights and weekends and we simply couldn't get out to get a real tree. When we moved, we decided that a real tree was necessary, but we kept it on the small side because, well, apartment.
This year we planned on a little tree once again, but there were none on the lot that we visited.
"Don't you have any little trees?" I asked wistfully.
"Nah, the tree farms don't wanna cut little trees," replied Mr. Gruff*.
We poked around the lot and chose a not-too-tall Fraser Fir. It's about six feet tall, but it's nice and slender. Personally, I think it's the best tree ever.
*Not his real name.