I'm a bit of a Scrooge. I dread the Christmas holidays: the hustle and bustle, the excessive food, the hoards of shoppers, the incessant Christmas music on repeat on the radio... It gets to me after a while, and I yearn for my quiet days on the couch when I can dream and snooze and knit. I've checked myself out of the holiday over the past few years, and I bear it until it all passes.
Except, this year I'm not.
The hubby took me out to watch a Stuart McLean show on Friday as a delayed birthday present. I was really looking forward to seeing the guy in person and experiencing one of his shows. It really didn't even twig in my brain that it was a Christmas show until it all started. And wow... something happened.
I think I felt the Christmas cheer coming on.
I found myself with a silly grin on my face and a look of wonder in my eyes. The music, the stories, the chat... all of a sudden, I wanted to sing the songs and wrap presents and play in the snow. I wanted to be with my family and watch the children opening presents. And I haven't felt that for a long, long time. And it felt good.
The whole drive back, I sang the songs and chittered like a squirrel about all we'd seen and heard, and I smiled and smiled and smiled. It's like someone poured a whole lot of sparkles into my mouth and I was spewing them everywhere. Holiday cheer in sprinkler-mode. That was me.
I sort of have my Christmas gifts in order, and I think that I will spend this weekend putting them together and making sure I haven't missed anyone. And I might hum a few songs and chase Rascal around in the snow. I might dig out all red yarn and plan a few projects for them, and delight in the joy of working with my favourite colour.
Take a hike, humbug. Santa's made it to the Couch.