Here’s a controversial opener for you: I love Christmas.
And I love Advent (the four weeks leading up to Christmas) at least as much. I love getting ready for Christmas, at church, at home, and in the community. Singing Advent hymns, digging out decorations, bringing out a different Nativity scene figure each week in worship.
I do wish the community preparations would wait a few weeks–already, the Santa House has taken its place in Central Park, and Santa’s arm chair is ready and waiting at the Hutchinson Mall–but there is something magical about Christmas in a small town, no matter when it starts. When Mike and I were dating, and in the first few years of our marriage, I loved coming to Litchfield at Christmastime. And now, I get to live here!
When you drive to Litchfield on Highway 12, you drive through a bunch of other small towns. At this time of year, each town has its own holiday decorations, and it’s fun to see each set as you drive through. I have always thought Litchfield’s were great: cheery, old-fashioned (pro tip: in this case, probably because they are actually old), merry and bright.
At least, I thought so until Mike read aloud a friend’s Facebook status:
It’s that time of year already.
The supports are going up for the Christmas bras.
“What?” I asked. “What is he . . . oh. Oh.”
I took this photo today, after the addition of the red lanterns. Those help, right? Now the greens look more like . . . a pair of Christmas glasses than a Christmas bra.
But yesterday, as I drove through town, I drove under an imposing line of evergreen lingerie. I was horrified, and also amazed that I had never noticed the resemblance before.
Not cool, Facebook friend. Not cool.