Tis the Season

Tis the season for piped in Christmas music in stores, shops and salons.  I loved getting my pedicure to the sounds of the season instead of the usual spa-like soothing music that is ubiquitous to spas and the like.  In fact the lady sitting next to me began to hum along with O Come O Come Emmanuel and since it is a song I've sung in choir over the years, I know the alto part without having to hear someone else and so we had quite a good time humming next to each other in our pedicure chairs.  We didn't exchange names or ask each other when our next appointments are scheduled.  We had a moment.  It was fun.  Too bad she didn't know Still, Still, Still cause it was the next song up. Yesterday, several of us on the cereal aisle had a moment with Jingle Bell Rock because all of us were singing it softly and that is not to be confused with Killing Me Softly by Roberta Flack, and when we realized all of us pushing carts were singing, we took it up a notch.  I guess it would be like a flash mob, without the flash and no mob.  Just four women in the grocery store looking at cereal.  There is something in the music of Christmas that gets almost everyone humming or singing.  Although the holidays from Thanksgiving to New Years isn't my favorite time of year, the music by far, is. 

And I have come to another conclusion, I no longer have to dislike the holidays.  It seems I have been set free from the drama and histrionics that come with some people.  I did have the occasion today to encounter the convoluted ideas and schemes of the biggest drama king I've known via a conversational text and I shake my head.  Not in disgust but in sadness that this person continues to make the same choices again and again and getting the same results, again and again.  This is when if in conversation I was telling you about this I would add, bless his heart.  Three words just about sum it up.

Roy has gone to get his pedicure so that he will have lovely toes in the biblical portion of Celebration.  I told Lisa, she does both of our nails, to put a snowflake on his big toe so that we can be just alike.  Yea, that's not going to happen. 

I'm reading the best book and if you have read Monablog for any amount of time you know I love the book but can't remember titles.  The Bookstore in Big Stone Gap might be the title or close enough to it.  Fascinating read about who a couple who started a used bookstore in a small rural area of Virginia and the growth and lessons learned through their experiences.  I love how she tells stories of books marking milestones in our lives.  She can go through bookshelves and tell you the journey of your life.  Now, since I have gotten rid of so many books because of our move, I don't know if she would get a true read.  I think she would discover rather quickly that most of my fiction reading takes place in the south. 

A new addition to our outdoor Christmas decor is two lit trees by the front door.  I cannot tell you how many times I have jumped thinking there is someone lurking the shadows of the front door during the day.  Buddy has bristled a time or two when she is in the study. And I guess at Christmas the UPS guy can't bring packages up to the front door like the rest of the year.  We have a gate that leads to the front door and today I heard someone yelling and I got up to check it out.  Only when I saw the boxes outside the gate did I realize he had yelled UPS.  And, I might add, he placed them where I could not open to gate to bring them in without a lot of finagling.  He sat in his truck and watched but got away before I could get to him and ask why he can't bring them to the front door anymore. 

Maybe I should pipe some Christmas music outside and let it work it's mysterious effects of making everyone want to hum and sing.  Maybe he and I could sing a chorus of Joy to the World the package has come.  Please deliver at the front door.  .