Yesterday I was reading Tudor’s blog post about her guilty secrets, one of which is that she actually likes the fall time change, and the way it makes the mornings much brighter and sunnier. At the end, she asked what our unpopular opinions are, and I thought about it, and here’s mine:
I actually like it that Christmas season starts November 1.
Okay, I can see that the current argument, that it should wait until at least after Remembrance Day, has some merit. But in general I’m happy to celebrate the season for as long as they’ll let me. I love hearing tinkly Christmas music in the stores, and seeing all the pretty decorations. I love the sound of the mall Santa’s Ho Ho Hos and the way every kid starts looking around with stars in their eyes, dreaming of treats and goodies and warm, happy times.
I love making lists, lots of lists, of gifts and cards and recipes to make – it makes me think about all the people I love, and what they are like, and what kinds of things they like, and all they bring to my life. Christmas is a very busy time for me – I always do too much! – but it never feels like a burden. It’s fun, and I like it.
(Remind me I said that on December 15 or so when I’m knee deep in baking, wrapping, and daily Christmas crafts with the kids.)
I’m better now with winter than I used to be, but November and December can still seem like a very sad time of year, with the dark nights and gloomy grey weather and dying gardens. We know we’re going into bleak days of cold and minimal sunlight.
So Christmas, to me, is a bright light in the middle, something to look forward to, but also something to just enjoy for the whole season. Around here we have a rule: no Christmas music, decorations, or talk about gift shopping until at LEAST after November 18, which is my birthday. But in truth, my lists are already started, and I’m already humming Sleigh Ride when I see the seasonal aisle at the Superstore, and I’m already stocking up on chocolate chips and icing sugar.
I’ll take the cheer for as many weeks as I can.