In December of 1970 when our first child was a baby, my husband and I lived in a tiny house overlooking miles of prairie near Auburn, Kansas. Given my fascination with pioneers, I decided that, like Kansans of long ago, we should use a tumbleweed for a Christmas tree. I was excited to relive this tradition, and so we bundled up our baby and hiked onto a pasture in search of a suitable tumbleweed from among the many that piled up on the barbed wire fences along the north side.
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