After the sleepless flight the day before, followed by the long car ride down to Devon I don’t know how I managed to stay awake long enough to feed and bathe Sam in the evening before putting him to bed in his fantastic nursery. Mum and Dad have totally baby proofed the small box room which used to be my domain and filled it with lots of fun toys and books, as well as a low bed on which to dream circus filled dreams. I curled up under the bright clown covers with Sam to give him a snuggle and settle him down, the next thing I knew Bill was peering in to look for me as I’d fallen dead asleep. After that I just crawled into my own bed and passed out for the night.
I woke up bright and early before anyone else in the house and so feeling energetic snuck downstairs and kidnapped Molly for a run on the moors. She keenly followed me up onto the lane but then it was a bit of a struggle to get her going as she kept sitting down, looking back towards the house and waiting for her Daddy. Until she could no longer see the gate to the lane she would stop and turn every few steps and I had to coax her onto the Down.
Once her attention turned to walkies I ran a large circle around the Pimple, following the stone walls and touching upon the moorland golf course, while Molly ran amongst the gorse, often accidentally flushing out startled Dartmoor Ponies. The cold was biting on the lungs but not all that bitter on the skin, and it was a beautiful start to the morning and the stay in Devon.
Later that day when the rest of Ashridge was roused it was Operation Crimble Tree. First of all Daddy and I ventured out intent on finding a suitable specimen but sadly after scouring Tavistock we had to return empty handed. The old fall back of Woodlands even failed us this year as the place was deserted and bore no signs of Christmas Spirit. There were Christmas Trees to be had in the town, but for a cost, and we were not prepared to shell out thirty quid plus for one. Insanity!
After lunch we renewed our efforts and took a family trip to the garden centre in Yelverton, only to be disappointed once more. Again, they had trees but the price was outrageous.
Leaving Bill, Sam and Daddy to take Molly for a needed walk, Mum and I then decided to branch off and try Yelverton proper. We had decided taking two cars to scour Devon on the Great Christmas Tree Hunt was rather silly, but our next stop was a good ‘un and yielded us a little tree. We came across a seller at the side of the road by the Rock Inn. He didn’t have much left but we found a nice little pine that fitted our budget and felt accomplished in our hunting. Of course, as soon as we had stowed our tree in the boot and made to drive off we watched the lad receive a large delivery of fresh trees. Oh spit!
Mumsy and I then made a guess as to where Daddy might have taken his crew and headed to Grenofen for a stroll. We guessed wrong, but decided to go stretch our legs along the river anyway before returning home with our prize.