When I think about old movies and holiday tales, I conjure forth the busy families running around the day of Christmas Eve, trying to get the tree in the house and decorated, the presents bought and wrapped, and the turkey/ham/goose cooked, the plum pudding made and lit and eaten. All in one night, poof! magic, and then it's Christmas Day, and then it's all over.
This two day festival seems so oddly charming, especially as I walked down the aisles in Rite Aid in the week before Halloween and saw that the Christmas effluvia had moved in, hiding, sort of, at the end of the holiday aisle. Forget Thanksgiving already, we are moving into the red and the green the minute those pesky trick-o-treaters are gone. Remainder those Three Musketeer bars. It's time for tinsel.
There is a house down the street whose inhabitants seem to live for any known holiday or celebration. If I've forgotten what month I'm in, all I have to do is drive downtown and see the garage door adorning hearts, four-leaf clovers, bunnies, flags, jack-o-lanterns, turkeys, reindeer to know when I am. Clearly, this is a Christian household, but at least I have a vague notion of the season each time I pass. Then I go to Rite Aid, and I know for sure.
This year, the holidays are on a diet. There's been way too much celebrating going on around here, and we need to batten down the hatches and retrench. There will be wine and song, but not a lot of consumerism. We have consumed enough for twenty in this year of fabulous celebration.
We are no Scrooges--Michael and I gave out candy and bought a pumpkin. We are hosting Thanksgiving, and we bought some of those inedible but holiday colored gourds for the table that look like strange, long-necked birds. We will light the menorah and put up a tree. We do some what seems right and not rite Aid.
Causes Jessica Inclán Supports
Women for Women International Goodwill Industries Lindsey Wildlife Museum Freecycle.org