It's good to be home in Western Pennsylvania from Philadelphia for the holidays - despite it being just a bit colder here. I was home only one day before I had to start thawing frozen pipes.

When thinking about what to write, I asked my 4-year-old niece what is her favorite part of Christmas. She answered, as most kids her age would: "Getting presents!"

As the years go by, though, the things I remember most are the traditions of growing up on the farm, not what presents I received. As with anyone who has moved away from home, your memories become more poignant each year.

One of my most vivid memories of the holiday season was the task of getting our Christmas tree. My mom would bundle up my brother and me while my dad grabbed a saw and baler twine. The three of us, along with whatever farm dog(s) we had at the time, would trudge through the snow over the hill to the woods in search of the "it-will-have-to-do" tree (think Charlie Brown Christmas trees).

If we were lucky, there would be one on ground level with enough branches to hang a few lights on. If not, my dad would climb the tree to hack off the top. Then he would tie the baler twine to the bottom branches of the tree so we could pull the tree up the hill like little sled dogs, where my mom was waiting.

My dad always put the tree in a 5-gallon bucket from the barn filled with bricks to weigh it down (I don't know why we never got a real stand) that allowed for lots of leaning. As you can imagine, the tree always looked quite a bit smaller outside than it did inside. But we decorated it with pride and enjoyed each tree every year - even when it took up half the room.

Sledding was always a favorite winter pasttime at the farm. My brother and I would slide down the small hill in front of our house, stopping only when we hit the barn door. When our cousins visited, we'd go to the big hills in the back pastures going down, down, down until we ran into the creek. Then we'd drag our sleds back up, up, up the long hills to do it all again. The cold never seemed as cold when we were kids.

I remember my Grandma Kummer baking multiple pumpkin and apple pies for the holiday feasts. She could peel an apple in one long, curly piece. She also baked orange cookies during the holidays, a tradition I've now taken over.

Life on the farm was never dull, not even during the long, cold winter months. Hopefully, my niece will have experiences like these that she will reflect on fondly after she grows up and moves away.

I hope this holiday and winter season finds you all enjoying getting presents, giving presents, reminiscing about old family traditions and making new ones. Here's to 2005 and a new year of happiness, prosperity and peace.