Since I grew up in an inn, Christmas for us usually began way before Thanksgiving. Decorations for the inn went up Thanksgiving weekend, and Christmas programs started shortly thereafter. It even got to the point that the local Christmas tree farmer knew that the season had begun when my mother showed up wanting a Christmas tree.
But of course they didn’t have any Christmas trees cut and ready yet. So they would load my mother into their truck and drive her back into the farm until she saw a tree she liked. Then they would stop, and if she was with a nice person they would cut the tree for her, if not, she would take a handsaw to the tree herself.
A tree for the hallway, tons of evergreen bows for the mantels and big windows. Ribbons and valances galore. It was quite a feat to get the inn ready for Christmas. By the time we got to set up our personal Christmas tree three days before actual Christmas, it felt like we had been living in a Christmas vortex for our whole lives.
But somehow I still love Christmas. I hate the song “Deck the Halls,” but other than that I have no Christmas scarring.
I’m going out this evening to get my Christmas tree. In a parking lot in Florida. Not quite as seasonally fulfilling as wading through the snow to choose the perfect fresh-cut tree. The trees I’ll be looking at tonight have probably been shipped from three states away, but I’m thrilled to be getting a Christmas tree no matter where it’s coming from. Because that will mean that Christmas is really here! And Christmas is my favorite time of year!