I’m sitting here a little after 6 at night listening to the California rain. The pouring, pouring rain. I’m sipping a glass
(finger and a half) of Crown, feeling rather depressed. The rain is part of it, but also I’m troubled. I blame it all on Boris who sent me a very long email yesterday. Boris it seems, is my own Mr. Grinch. He doesn’t do Christmas. He doesn’t like all the commercialization of the holiday (cue Charlie Brown and Linus) He doesn’t want his house decorated, thank you very much. He is tired of the holiday already. He doesn’t like the Christmas music that’s been playing since Halloween. He doesn’t like green. (that coming from my love of forest green nail polish at the holidays)
I’m sorry, but I’m a Christmas person. I LOVE Christmas. Not to the point of going overboard. In fact, our tree is very simple and small. Mrs. B puts up our unique and old figurines that are cute and tucked here and there. None of that houses and snow theme that a lot of homes have (though I love that.) We do not have garlands everywhere. There is a wreath on the front gate because Mr. B decided to take what was left from trimming the tree to the correct height and make a wreath, the old dear. It has a gold bow and a red bow on it. Nothing fancy. Yes, we have been playing Christmas music since the 31st of November, but it’s not on all day.
So, you can see that I don’t go crazy. But I love the holiday. I love listening to John Denver’s Rocky Mountain Christmas and remembering dancing in our huge living room as a little girl. When I still hoped to be a ballerina. When it was still the 80’s and the 80’s had their own feel. The years of The Carpenter’s Christmas Portrait. When a little girl still wore plaid and corduroy. When my blonde, blonde hair was super girly…. When Barbies and stuffed animals got decorated up and had balls.
When I read all the Christmas picture books with my sister. We would sit and read the stack quietly while the record player had our favorite music on. Oh my gosh, that was before cd players and MP3 files. Would you believe this was long before I ever saw How The Grinch Stole Christmas and Charlie Brown? I actually had never seen those two until I was probably in my late teens. I still adore them though. It’s not Christmas without those two. And The Santa Clause with Tim Allen. And The Holiday with Cameron Diaz and Kate Winslet. And White Christmas with Bing Crosby.
Okay, I have a lot that make it Christmas. Silly things. Childish things. Nostalgic things. But it’s always Christmas.
So I don’t understand not really caring, and I find it sad that Boris is a bit of a Mr. Grinch about it. Poor man. It makes me want to make cookies for him and to arrive with a bit of Mistletoe in hand. I just don’t know what to do with him. It’s so very sad and makes me want to cry. I’m sure he has no clue about his words doing that to me, but I may tell him. How to take a marvelous holiday and make me want to cry. I don’t think that’s very nice. See, Mr. Grinch!
So, I’m curious. Does anyone of you have a Grinch in your close knit of friends or family members? Does it make you a bit sad?