This week, something strange happened. I turned on the television, and a smiling woman in a fur-trimmed red sweater was hanging lights. I went on Twitter, and saw that the Buffalo News has already erected its Christmas tree. I turned on the radio and heard not one, not two, but three different stations playing Christmas music.
And then I checked my calendar, just in case Iíd Rip Van Winkled away an entire month. But no, the Christmas season jumped right over Thanksgiving, which weíre apparently not recognizing this year, in the hustle and bustle rush toward Christmas.
Every year, my dad and my brother put up decorations while my mom and I go shopping on Black Friday. Yes, weíre gluttons for punishment. According to the media this year, weíre all going to be running about a month late.
I donít know about you, but I think the calendar goes fast enough, without rushing ahead. It feels like summer was just yesterday, and now Iím dragging out my winter coat and defrosting my car in the mornings.
Now donít get me wrong: I love the holidays as much as the next person. Give me a hot cup of cocoa, ďA Christmas StoryĒ on TV and a roaring fire in front of my decorated mantelpiece and Iím happy. In December, that is.
But for right now, Iím not finished with autumn. There are still pumpkins on my front porch and Iím still enjoying the crunch of leaves beneath my feet. The cider in my fridge will carry me through to Thanksgiving, and donít get me started on pumpkin spice everything.
Peppermint and gingerbread: Wait your turns! Iíll get to you when the calendar (and the season) dictates. Life is short enough, if you ask me. Letís savor the moments weíve got, and not let the media and advertising industries rush us onto the next one too soon. Thereís plenty to enjoy, right this second.