The rain arrived on Halloween night and fell steadily and heavily into this dark and dreary Sunday. Despite the extra hour of sleep, I had a hard time keeping my eyes open this morning and couldn't resist the pull of my big red sofa.
The Girl needed to get supplies for a science project so she and I ventured out to A.C. Moore Crafts this afternoon. We dodged puddles as we crossed the slick black pavement on our way to the potpourri-scented air behind those heavy doors. It is not an attractive store, but we love to come here and soak in all the potential for creativity looming under the stark fluorescent lights.
This is America, so we weren't surprised that on the first day of November, all things Christmas had taken center stage in the merchandising of the front of the store. Christmas music was being piped into every corner, and normally this annoys me, but much to my surprise I didn't mind.
OK, I admit it, I was ENJOYING the music--the very same music that I ban from my own home until days before Christmas. Was it the deep gray of the day? My fuzzy red sweater? The sense of happy possibility that I always feel in art stores? I don't know, but the Girl I both felt glimmers of Christmas spirit, even with the fall leaves still lingering on the trees.
I came home and thought about Christmas cards and family photos and things I might make, things I might give. It made the gathering gloom outside my windows a bit less oppressive.
To be honest, some years Christmas preparations have felt more like a demanding second job to me than a celebration. Maybe this year will be different--lighter, happier, freer. Let's hope so.