We celebrated Small Business Saturday yesterday by venturing out to our local favorite, Harvey's Farm, to get our Christmas tree.
"Cedrick the Cedar," his name tag said. Fat, fragrant, and fresh.
The whole getting-the-tree-early thing isn't a long-standing tradition for us. Last year, when I looked over our December weekend schedule, I realized that if we didn't get the tree right after Thanksgiving then we'd be hard-pressed to get it at a time when it wasn't going to feel frantic -- that the decorating process would be a stressful chore rather than a joy. Rather than allowing that to happen, we ignored our "it's too early!" feelings and brought home a beauty.
On our way over to the farm, I asked if we were going to buy food for the animals. "No thanks!" Dean said. "You're never too old to feed the animals...." I replied. Turns out I was right; Dean just couldn't pass up the bag of food at the check-out counter and I love that about him. I also love the way he's very particular about the process -- just a little bit for the pig, and the most for the smallest goats (who get pushed out of the way by the pig and larger goats, so it takes real strategy).
I also took advantage of the very warm weather to get outdoor lights on our bushes; never got around to that last year. The older I get, it seems, the more I am able to see "Christmas" not as one day but as a season, and the more I embrace everything that leads up to it and is a part of it. I don't feel I'm rushing it, I feel I am luxuriating in it. What could possibly be merrier than that?