Page 50 of Snowflakes at the Little Christmas Tree Farm
It’s not quite the sixty seconds he can get through a tree trunk in, but it’s a start, and I move onto the next tree before he has a chance to direct me.
I’m going to have to do this on my own. I love that he’s helping me, but he’s got his own farm to run, he can’t be here all the time.
It’s fine, I tell myself. A few weeks ago, I never thought I’d get the hang of shearing trees, but now I feel like I’ve been doing it all my life.
One thing I’ve learnt is that you don’t have time for doubt in this job. You jump in and learn as you go while treading water in the deep end and hoping there are no sharks circling down below.
‘You’re keen.’ Noel supports the next tree, peering around it to watch the cut I’m making.
‘You’re not always going to be here to help me. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate you teaching me stuff like this, but I have to get the hang of it myself.’
‘I know, but my season is over for the moment so I’ve got time, and I love this place. I love being here again. I even love watching you grow into this role and the way you pick things up and have ideas that I would never have thought of. It’s inspiring to see it all through the eyes of a newbie again.’
Inspiring. Something I never thought anyone would say about me, ever.
‘You keep thanking me for helping you, but I’m enjoying it too. I loved fixing up the caravan with you and seeing it take shape into something fantastic before our eyes. Even Gizmo is enjoying his new red markings.’ He gives me a grin. ‘And yeah, my season starts again in January with digging over the land and planting seeds in propagators, but until then I’m only running the market stall and the corn maze at the weekends until the corn dies back. I’m happy to help.’
He makes an ‘oof’ sound as the tree I’ve just cut down falls into him, and I can’t help the grin of glee. He was so distracted that he didn’t even notice me slicing through another trunk.
I run my gloved fingers across the fresh stump. It’s not as smooth as Noel’s, but it’s better than my earlier cuts. For the first time since he knocked on the door this morning with a backpack over his shoulders, two bow saws in one hand and coffee and muffins in the other, I feel like it’s actually something I’ll be able to do.
I grin up at him as he sets the tree on the ground and walks around it to assess the trunk and gives an approving nod.
‘And we haven’t even started on the chainsaw cutting yet. And yes, youdoneed to learn how to use a chainsaw,’ he says, pre-empting what I was going to say. ‘If you’re harvesting a lot of trees in one go for wholesale or something then you need the speed, and mainly, if any customers cut their own trees down with wonky cuts then you have to straighten them up before they leave, otherwise the tree won’t stand right in their house and they’ll blame you even though they did the wonky cut themselves.’
‘Oh, great. Problem customers.’ I hadn’t even thought about that aspect of the job. ‘There’s always one, isn’t there?’
‘Actually, there are usually two, just to make a really good job of ruining someone’s day.’
It makes me smile as Noel leaves me cutting and starts carrying the trees up to the waiting trailer and loading them in. I watch for a moment as he starts moving them, lifting the smaller ones with one hand around the trunk at the bottom, and rolling the larger ones up onto his shoulder to carry them up to the nearest tractor path. He moves them quickly but gently, stacking them into the trailer with care, looking like he’s been doing it for most of his life. It makes me wonder again just how much he used to do for Mr Evergreene because there doesn’t seem to be a thing he doesn’t know about Christmas trees.
When I’ve cut some more down, I start loading too. I’ve already hauled a few dead trees – ones that I’ve been able to hack up with an axe and drag around because they can’t get much more damaged when they’re already dead – but this is my first time picking up a living Christmas tree that still has to be in a good enough condition to sell by the time I’m finished with it.
I go for one of the younger spruces and follow Noel’s lead, one hand around the base of the trunk, one hand carefully around the slimmer width of the top, and lift it, expecting it to be much heavier than it actually is. I carry it up to the trailer and lean it against the side until the bigger trees are loaded in underneath the smaller ones to save them being crushed. After a couple more, I go for a bigger one, hoisting it up over my shoulder. I turn around and complete the classic cartoon character move of decapitating everything in a circle around me, spraying needles around as the tree crashes into several of the ones still standing.
Noel hooks one ankle over the other and leans against the trailer, not hiding the amusement on his face.
All right, I’m not an expert at it yet, and lifting the heavier tree has made me realise how much I’m aching from all sawing and carrying. I’ve used muscles I’ve never used before in my life, and every part of my upper body is hurting, from my wrists, forearms, and upper arms, to my shoulders, neck, and right the way down my chest.
‘These are surprisingly easy to move,’ I pant as I stagger towards Noel, sweat dripping off my forehead again. All right, the larger ones are a bit on the heavy side, but I didn’t mean that in a fully sarcastic way. It’s easier than I imagined when I thought about what lugging trees around would be like. I look at the rows and rows of neatly sheared trees standing around me. Maybe I’ll reconsider that after I’ve cut, carried, netted, and transported a few hundred more.
‘That’s because you’ve gained some muscles since you started here. Believe me, I can tell.’
I think my entire body flushes from my toes to the tips of my hair at the implication he’s been looking.
‘That wasn’t supposed to sound anywhere near as pervy as it did.’ His face colours too, and he rushes off to collect the last of the trees. ‘Genuinely, Lee,’ he says without looking up when he comes back and starts loading them into the trailer. ‘You’re better at this than I thought you’d be.’
My hands and arms are still shaky from the exertion of carrying. ‘You’re a good teacher.’
‘Nah.’ He blushes and looks away, intently concentrating on laying trees one on top of the other.
‘You really don’t like compliments, do you?’
‘Shall we have a break for lunch?’ He doesn’t acknowledge the question, and I didn’t expect him to. He never accepts a compliment but he gives them freely. ‘There’s something I want to show you, but it’s right on the other side of the farm, we’ll be hungry by the time we get there.’
I don’t tell him that I’m famished now. All this tree cutting is hard work, and it’s nearly midday. Even Noel’s muffin and pumpkin spice latte haven’t sustained me this long, but I still feel like I haven’t seen every corner of Peppermint Branches, and he’s by far the best tour guide I could’ve wished for.
He covers the trailer to prevent the trees drying out while I collect both the bow saws and put the protective covers back on the blades. We pull our gloves off, and he shrugs his rucksack onto his shoulders and holds his hand out to me. ‘The ground might be uneven, and we’ve got to cross the stream.’
