Well, OK, 'tisn't quite the season yet--the First Sunday of Advent isn't until next week. But I couldn't wait. After whipping off a copy of a revised draft to my professor for my research seminar this morning, I decided it was time to haul the Christmas tree and decorations out of storage and get working.
One of the things I've "inherited" from my mother is a deep and abiding love of all things Christmas. (Well, OK, not quite all things. The only shopping I did yesterday was online, and you will never--I repeat, never catch me getting up at the arse-crack of dawn just to be 450th in line for some stupid "doorbuster" sale designed to sucker in otherwise rational people who are still in the grips of a tryptophan hangover into their stores and getting them to spend more money than they really should.) The decorations go up as quickly after Thanksgiving as I've got the energy for, and they stay up at least until Little Christmas (the Epiphany--which is January 6, no matter what the U.S. Catholic bishops say). From now until then, the "Christmas" genre on my iPod is going to get quite a lot of playing time. I'll probably wait to do the crèche until next week--but the puer, the baby Jesus, won't go into the manger until Christmas Eve. And the Magi don't show up until the Epiphany.
This, I think, is my favorite time of the year. I love the nip in the air, the seasonal treats, the scent of mulling spices, the crackle of a roaring fire, the anticipation (which, really, is what Advent is all about), the thrill of watching someone open a present that I've picked especially with them in mind, and knowing I got it right when the smile erupts across his/her face. I love preparing the seasonal treats for friends and family members: sugar cookies according to my cousin Jenni's recipe, fruitcake from the mother of a dear departed friend, Glühwein and mulled cider. And I love doing what I'm doing now--sitting quietly in my living room, warm and cozy, with nothing but the glow of the Christmas tree to pierce the darkness.
Veni, veni Emmanuel,
captivum solve Israel,
qui gemit in exilio
privatus Dei Filio!
Veni, veni o oriens!
Solare nos adveniens,
Noctis depelle nebulas,
Dirasque noctis tenebras.
Veni, veni Adonai!
Qui populo in Sinai
Legem dedisti vertice,
In Maiestate gloriae.
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