As we have for many years, last week my neighbor and I piled into the pickup and headed over to Bob Brooks' place in Chatham to buy a Christmas tree. We always try to dicker with him over the price by pointing out that it's near the end of the season, or the tree I've selected is the smallest on the lot and should really be discounted.
He never, ever budges.
"Thirty-five dollars," he'll state.
Alas, Mr. Brooks was in the hospital this year, so even though I got an excellent, fragrant tree as always, it just wasn't the same. Best wishes for a quick recovery, Mr. B!
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