Dad always cut down the tree with his big saw. Nothing was wasted. Dad usually cut off the bottom branches prior to cutting down the tree, brought them home and used them to cover Mum's little flower garden in the front of the house. I can picture him now, laying on the ground under the tree, listening to the sounds of saw against wood .....and then "SWOOSH" - with all its might, fell onto the forest floor. Tree dragged and tied and resting on top of the sled, or toboggan.
Mum brings out the thermos of hot chocolate and cookies. We sit around on dead logs or right on top of the snow and enjoy the delightful taste of early shortbread cookies. My Mum was such a wonderful baker. She not only cooked for her family, she also had quite the reputation of filling many others homes with her delightful talents in the kitchen. Having a special occasion, party or gathering of any sort. Just call Madeline - a caterer before catering became a career.
Once the tree was home, it had to stand in the back porch until everything had melted off and then it was time to bring it into the house. There was the odd time when a used bird nest was found built deep within the branches.