Traditions, the Drunk Tree Salesman, and Other Assorted Holiday Tidbits
It’s the time of year when my world sparks with cold – and walking the dog feels like a trip through the Wardrobe into Narnia, without the awesomeness of Mr. Tumnis. Or any Turkish Delight. I live in a place where winter is WINTER, and I’m one who tolerates the cold very well. Layers are my friend. This is my home, so I’ll gladly wear three sweaters, purple striped gloves, and my very pink Strawberry Shortcake hat. Because home isn’t just where you happen to live. It’s the place that feels like love. So what if it also includes icicles?
But this isn’t about the cold. It’s about Christmas. This time of year always makes me contemplative. I suppose it does for a lot of people. I’m lucky, because I have a great family and wonderful friends. Some near and some far, but all awesome.
There are so many things I’m grateful for this year. Having a cookie baking marathon with my BFF, where everything went wrong (burnt cookies, burnt caramel, and cookies that did not hold their shape), but it was still fun. And we can laugh at ourselves.
Trying to find a Christmas tree with the root ball, so that it can be planted, was an adventure. The tree farm that we went to almost my entire life is closed, now. I must’ve called fifty different places to ask if they sold live trees. The first man I spoke to was so drunk that I nearly didn’t believe it. He was also out of trees. (Out of trees? You’re a tree farm. I don’t think the Ents would approve.) After a lot of searching, one has been acquired. It is perfect, and it smells like Christmas and childhood.
For the first time ever, I’m cooking Christmas Eve dinner this year. It is an Italian tradition of 7 fish. I forget the significance, even though I ask after it every year. I’m a bit afraid that I’ll overcook the scallops or somehow wreck the seafood sauce, but I am also excited. I want to know how to make the things my mom makes. Thanksgiving, I’ve got down. This is the next challenge. I choose to see it as such. In the immortal words of Barney Stinston – CHALLENGE ACCEPTED. *suits up*
I spent a few days locating important pieces of Christmas: my Santa Hat, a copy of Dominick the Donkey, and the stockings for my animals. (Side-note: I ordered some toys for my cats and dog for Christmas. There was a problem with the order, and I had to ask the lady if the items would be here for Christmas…because I bought presents for my pets. I can only assume by her silence and slowness to answer that she thought I was this side shy of crazy.)
I love the holidays and the silly traditions I have (watching Bridget Jones and Love Actually while wrapping presents). I hope you have silly traditions, too, and that the holiday is full of magic, laughter, and lots of joy. You can’t put a price on that, and you can’t wrap it. The good thing is that stuff like that doesn’t need a bow.
Nota bene: For anyone who hasn’t heard Dominick the Donkey, here: