I’m sorry that I’ve been remiss with my blog posts lately, but I do have an excuse: I’ve been extremely busy trying to ignore the upcoming Holiday Season. I’ve stayed away from the big-box stores with their throngs of crazed shoppers, I don’t have twinkling outside lights adorning my house and yard and I have not baked anything with gumdrops or cinnamon or red and green cherries.
But the Season is fast approaching anyway; no matter how much effort I’ve put into keeping it at bay it insists on knocking at my door and it won’t take ‘no’ for an answer when I say that I’m just not interested this year, thank you very much. The Season is very pushy.
In it bursts, leaving a trail of glitter on my stairs and marching right to the living room where it demands that a tree be set up in the corner, by the fireplace. It wants lights and ornaments on the tree and it wants an angel placed on the top branch. Not just any angel, either, it wants the honor given to the forty-year old cardboard angel that my husband and I bought for our tree the first year we were married. This angel has been repaired many times over the years and she looks a lot worse for wear, but she is still the one chosen to grace our tree top year after year after year. The Season should consider the feelings of the beautiful angel I bought a few years ago and let her have a turn on the top of the tree, I think, but the Season says no. The Season is unreasonably stubborn.
The Season also insists that there be stockings set out on Christmas Eve and it wants gifts in them by the next morning. So I’ve had to do some shopping, even though I resisted and stomped my feet and said I was going to hold my breath until I turned blue if I was made to venture to the stores. In the end I had to give in; I’m just one woman against many and the Season didn’t care if I turned blue and fainted–it was willing to wait until I came to again and then would make me go to the shops anyway. The Season can be a bully.
Now I have to wrap these gifts I bought because apparently the Season doesn’t want naked gifts placed in the stockings on Christmas Eve. The Season is extremely fussy and needs to lighten up a bit.
And I’ve been informed that I will be making gumdrop cake and cinnamon buns and maybe even a pumpkin pie before the Season’s big day arrives next week. It is tradition and the Season is big on tradition. The Season needs to broaden its horizons and experiment with new ideas.
The Season says that tradition also means preparing a turkey dinner with all the trimmings, so now I have to shop for squash and cranberries and cabbage and apple and mint jelly. Plus I have to defrost the turkey and make a dressing and whip cream to garnish the pumpkin pie that will be eaten even though everyone will be full from the turkey with all the trimmings. The Season should consider dieting.
So as I said at the beginning of this post, I’ve been busy. But today I rebelled. I said that I was going to take a few minutes and write because that is what I want to do and that is what I need to do, and finally the Season agreed to let me have the afternoon to myself.
Maybe the Season has a kind heart after all.