Most years we all got in the car and drove up to the national forest to cut down our own tree. These were reasonably-sized fresh evergreens and always smelled devine. Then one year, dad found the perfect tree, dwarfed in the woods by the surrounding tall timbers, and when we brought it home, could barely get it through the door. It took a ten foot ladder to decorate it.
Judi was the boss in all these household jobs and she would clap her hands together and say, "I mean it you guys" until we finally did what she wanted for chores. Clifford Thompson took the picture as I recall, a hobby of his.
I don't remember striped wall paper in the living room. I am pretty sure that must be wood.
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