Outside, the snow is falling and I just finished calling my folks, "Yoo-hoo." After a hearty Bob Evans breakfast, we'll drive an hour south to chop down our Christmas tree. As my father explained at a party last night, the last pre-cut tree he bought was in 1974, a season spent hearing the dulcet chime of needles falling to the floor by the dozen. The Ubaldis have taken their tree directly from the ground ever since. Dad prefers Douglas Fir; I love the smell and sharpness of Blue Spruce. Either way, our find will be beautiful and uBlog photographs will follow. Enjoy the day!

THE DAY: Snow fell in Cleveland but it stuck about thirty miles south, near Medina. Between Wooster and Shreve, snow was no less persistent if less successful. Snow was falling while we chopped down our Frazier Fir — a monster of a specimen the likes of which my folks' living room hasn't seen since 1982, one I've dubbed King of All Christmas Trees. We'll stand it up and trim it tomorrow afternoon.