I love Christmas. I love the lights, the food, the family and the smells of the holidays. We bought our Christmas tree on Friday and I woke up in the early hours of Saturday morning thinking there was a fire somewhere. Hubby got up to check and realized it was the tree. Doh!

Saturday hubby had to work and I took baskets of fruits and veggies to my mom and dad’s house. While I was there I mentioned that they’re tree wasn’t up. Mom said they weren’t putting one up. Dad said they were. This isn’t the normal routine for my parents but my father begins his Chemotheraphy for his lung cancer next week for his birthday. The stress is beginning to show as they run from doctor to doctors appointment.

So I offered to put it up and take it down for them. Dad said he’d help. I think he can hid the pickle if he’s not feeling well.

As I was dragging out bin after bin of Christmas decorations for our own house, I began to see why after decades of doing it I could get tired of decorating. Then I started unpacking them and I found the lumpy dough ornaments and shoe print reindeer my children made, the snowman tea set that stacks up, the caroling carrousel, and the beaded chili ornaments my grandmother made and the vintage plastic tree from my late mother in law’s house. I have years of hallmark ornaments that the kids picked out as well.

Needless to say, the bah humbug beginnings was nipped in the bud as all those who’ve passed come by the visit.