Today's theme: Confessions.

Friends, forgive me, for yesterday I listened to Christmas music. I know, I know. I appear like a hypocrite. But, it was an act of selfless love. ;)

No, but really. I do not like listening to Christmas music before its time. In fall, I listen to jazz. Lot's of it. And folk. I love Michael on an evening while I make dinner or sip cider with friends. I love Norah on a rainy afternoon (or Saturday morning) as I curl up with a book in my room, or in the family room with a fire. I love Nat (actually- I prefer him in the summer at dusk for some reason). I love Frank and Ella as November rolls around. Yes, all of it. Love it. But I will not listen to anything that Jingles, Jangles, or smells like lyrical pine or holly! No, that is for the days that follow Thanksgiving! To each its own music!

Yes, my family has called me the tradition natzi. And yes, I take my responsibilities as the keeper of all that is sacred very seriously.

Christmas music, you are lovely. I wait all year for you. And I love our time together. But our time is from the day after Thanksgiving, until the day OF Christmas. After that, it is New Year's time. Then, it is my time. Then, love's time.

But yesterday, while driving with my dear friend Megs, upon request... and in celebration of the first snow of season... I let Frank and Ella sing us a few carols. And we did Jingle and Jangle, and deck the halls with those balls of that holly.

Too much of a good thing may not be bad, but it sure can get bland, and there is no way I'm letting my Christmas music get bland. Oh no- don't fall into the obvious misconception that because I am not listening to it that I am not thinking of it. On the contrary. It is the expectation and anticipation of it that I love almost as much as the thing itself. I LOVE CHRISTMAS. I love SURPRISES! I love guessing and hoping and trying to figure out what I am getting... but only if I don't actually figure it out. I love the excitement of waiting. I love how everyone is sharing in that same excitement, and it creates its own scent in the Winter air. Christmas is coming!

But first, Thanksgiving is here. And it deserves to be relished and cherished. Hugged and doted on like the middle child. Thursday morning, I will wake and listen to my mom in the kitchen. Cabinets shutting. Pots clinking. The sink running. But I won't get up. I'll wait. Then I'll hear it start, what must happen before I can get up and brush my teeth and cuddle up on the couch to the parade. Yes, the turkey must fly. "Gobble, gobble gobble" "Get in the pan!" In a heroic episode, my mom will fight the turkey, wrestle it through every bedroom and back up to the kitchen, where she will finally lay that beastly bird to its final breaded rest.

Then, Kristin and I will slip out of the house, pajamas and slippers as our array, we'll whisper and giggle, trying to be unnoticed. Until out feet hit the top stair and the laughter bursts out as we dart for the door- mom shouting after us. If it hadn't happened for the past 5 years, she migth truly be surprised. But no, the shouting just turns into something like "Get me one!"

We'll return with our hands full of extra hot beverages, sealed with the siren... cinnamon rolls coming out of the oven in perfect time. Then, it's the parade... maybe a nap or a book. Finally, we'll all receive our assignments in the kitchen, mashed potatoes, fruit salad, bread into the oven. (The olives will have been mostly eaten by me already). Dad will come out from his den to carve the turkey. And eventually we will all gather around the table.

The table, don't worry, I haven't forgotten. You see, the table is my favorite part. I love to decorate. And I love holidays. So it follows naturally that I claim the task of decorating the table. I used to spend the month before looking through magazines and online for clever ideas. Now, mom tends to pick up things she thinks I'd like, and that match her design... and we make something of it.

You see, I know that these things will happen on Thursday. I also know that other unexpected things will happen. Unexpected people will likely sit down to our table too. And I love that as well (Once I choose to get over the fact that I hadn't had time to make them the matching name setting as the rest of us... I now make a few 'guest' ones too typically). But just because I know these things will happen on Thursday, doesn't mean I try to start doing them today... oh now, it is the expectation of them that I love just as much as I will the moment of their actual happening.

So let the Christmas music rest. Wait for it. Anticipate it. Love it. But do not listen to it. Instead, embrace this season, and give thanks.

I know, I know, the theme wasn't really confessions. It was more traditions or holidays, I confess. ;)