As the holiday season picks up speed, I find I am once again of two minds. One side is pure Scrooge, grumbling about all the busy-ness, abhoring the relentless cheery holiday pop music while I pump gas out in the cold, loathing the days-long cleaning session needed to ready the house after a slovenly fall. There’s anxiety about getting the right gifts for the right people. And about not repeating the epic fail of last year’s Christmas tree–some thick, squat mutant shambles of a conifer left over in the back corner of the greenhouse.
Note to self: Don’t wait until the solstice to get the Christmas tree.
But the other half of me is kind of butter-hearted and all Tiny Tim. While I hate Christmas music at the gas pump, or in the drugstore the day after Halloween, I love to hear it live, in a dim sanctuary, as in the annual Holiday Concert this week with the Potsdam Brass Quintet. And I loved the cookie and cider reception afterward, even the clean-up. And I never miss the Christmas Eve service. And cooking up a storm on Christmas Day. I love eggnog in the morning, demolishing a mound of wrapping paper in the company of family, and calling out to far-flung relations later in the day.
I find that the nearer the day comes, the less I am Scrooge and the more I am Tiny Tim. It’s a Christmas miracle!
Snowflake Selfie shout-out:
Here’s a sure-fire way way to get yourself in the spirit. Go out into the snow tonight, tip your head back, and photograph yourself catching snowflakes on your tongue. Send your photos in to me at firstname.lastname@example.org. We’ll do a slideshow and spread the cheer.