By: Jennifer Richardson Holt
This is something of a disclaimer. Perhaps that isn’t the right word—maybe explanation would be more appropriate. You see, I caught a fair amount of flack this past weekend, and it wasn’t the first time either. It wasn’t particularly traumatizing, as I’ve heard the fuss before. I will say that this year I may have actually received more positive responses than usual, which was refreshing. But for some reason, this year I felt compelled to ponder why some folks might be frustrated with me. And, I suppose, to dive into my own intentions and see why it is that I absolutely revel in decorating for Christmas the moment we reach November 1st.
If I had the financial means, I’d have a full house of decorations for every occasion under the sun. My home would be an impressive display of ornamentation—quite possibly nearing excessive, in the most tasteful way possible, of course. I’d love to change things with each season: a silvery-white glittering winterscape, or a blossom-and-greenery-adorned springtime display, ready to greet the equinoxes and solstices alike. I’m a sucker for a theme and for embellishment—and when you put those two together, my imagination runs wild. Oh, to have a bank account that allowed for full home redecoration at the mere mention of a new celebratory motif! I’d aim to make the editors of the most elite décor magazines gasp and clutch their pearls in envious awe as they opened my front door.
Alas, my decorating budget is far from bottomless. So, since Christmas is my favorite holiday—both in spirit and in décor—I decided long ago to invest wholeheartedly in making my house festive for the occasion. And since my home, in its Christmas finery, is one of my favorite versions of itself, I’m more than pleased to have it in that state for as long as possible. Naturally, that means decorating early to enjoy the fruits of my labor longer.
Now, you must understand that my fall décor—a cheerful mix of leaves and pumpkins in varying shades of gold and rust—goes out early, too. After all, if Christmas arrives at the start of November, autumn deserves its fair share of time in the spotlight, which means it must appear by early September, if not a tad before. Often, I start before because, in my mind, if football is being played—even if it’s just high school ball—then it’s autumn, no matter how much it still feels like Satan’s armpit outside. In short, the two occasions I decorate for most significantly are enjoyed for as long as I can manage.
When I happily announce that I’m beginning Christmas decorating on November 1st (and yes, it’s a process—it takes a few days), some people are displeased. The main argument is that I’m overlooking Thanksgiving. While I understand the sentiment, it simply isn’t true in my case. My home has already been decked out in autumnal splendor for weeks by then, so Thanksgiving’s colors are well accounted for. And as for turkeys—well, apart from their heads, bless them—they’re lovely creatures, but I’ve no décor featuring them. Honestly, I try to live with gratitude year-round, so I don’t feel a need to make that day any more special in that particular sense. The only real way my family celebrates Thanksgiving is, as good Southerners do, by eating. I suppose I could scatter pies and cakes around the house, but if you know me, you already know my love affair with such things. That would be beating a dead horse.
Christmas, though—Christmas is wonderful. It’s the only time of year when we welcome the busyness. We take on parties, parades, family gatherings, gift shopping, and all manner of special things with joy. While it can get stressful, it’s a different kind of stress—one that feels more like a grandpa trying to wedge all his giggling grandkids into one massive bear hug. There’s no other season where every upcoming event is something I genuinely look forward to.
It may sound cliché, but there truly is something magical about ribbons, greenery, and lights draped about a place. The simplest of spaces feels transformed. All the ideals of the season somehow seem closer, more attainable. We can feel the good cheer. And in the chill of winter, whenever it finally arrives, to revel in joy and celebrate the great Hope of the season is something I can never get enough of. I want my home to reflect that warmth and brightness.
And if my early embrace of the delight and wonder of it all causes someone to frown, well—all I can say is this:
Come to my house. Sip some cider. Listen to the carols play and watch the lights sparkle. I think you might just forget the calendar reads November as you smile, nod knowingly, and let that holiday hug wrap its arms around you.
Prose and Possibilities 