No. This isn't one of Santa's reindeers. It's a bull elk, part of a domesticated herd atop Weston Mountain. We paid him a visit while out shopping for our Christmas tree.

This is how we shop for trees in Oregon. I spotted the perfect Douglas Fir as we rounded a bend while snowmobiling with Coaches Larry Usher and Roger Berger. Such shopping requires a lot of outer gear -- gloves, hats, scarves, bib overalls, googles. I'd taken my googles off, however, the better to spot trees like this one.

Tim giving the tree a good shake, to ensure the tree didn't have any gaps in the branches. "How did you ever spot that as fast as you were going?" asked Coach Berger. Writers have good eyes. It's a skill we cultivate.

Once I did all the hard work of picking out the perfect tree, it was up to Coach Berger and Tim to cut it down and pull to the roadside, to be loaded on the sled.

Only one small problem. We didn't count for the depth perception issue. What looks like a six-foot tree from the road, turns out to be a nine-foot tree close-up. We'll deal with that tomorrow. Tonight our Douglas Fir is drying out in the garage. Tim gets the job of trimming it out so then I can decorate it. All together now: "Oh, Christmas Tree. Oh, Christmas Tree, how lovely are your branches..."

And now, back at home, the tree, decorated..