For more than 20 years I have lived by the steadfast rule that Christmas shall not be celebrated until after the last turkey sandwich is consumed. This past Wednesday however as I stuffed box after box full of stocking red envelopes and Santa clad cards I couldn’t help but feel the hum of a Christmas carol catch in my throat.
While I may purport to enjoy my holidays in their respective pumpkin spice and peppermint glory, in reality I too have caved to the holiday mega-spectacular that begins October 31 and doesn’t end until January 2. I won’t decorate my apartment in evergreens and sparkly baubles yet, but I can’t help but smile at the holidays lights already wrapped around front porch posts in my neighborhood and around the naked trees lining Locust and Grand.
But it was neither Locust St. or Grand Ave. that brought a smile to my face this past weekend. Rather, ‘Festive Ave.’ (the make-believe street denoting a row of vendors at the Winter Market) sent visions of sugarplums dancing through my head.
Certainly I wasn’t the only one dreaming of as holiday shoppers kept me busy restocking my table with Santa stationary and envelopes as red as Rudolph’s nose. And the next time I prepare my holiday wares for the second market this December, I’ll play my favorite Christmas music to pass the time. And maybe, I’ll even sing along.
