My poor husband. His sanity is at risk. And there's not much he can do about it. It's all in my hands.
You see, despite my rant of a few weeks ago . . . I like the holidays. In fact, I love the holidays. A LOT. I love the lights, the decorations, the food, buying presents, wrapping them. Mostly, I like holiday music. And movies, too. And since November 1st, I've been playing my CDs and watching the movies, all of which drives Mr. Ivy NUTS!
I've been playing the holiday music a lot, too. The CDs are put away for ten months of the year, so it's like renewing an old friendship when I haul them all out. My favorite is actually a cheapie I got at the grocery store. It's called Popular Christmas for a New Age. I think it cost me five bucks. And since then, I've found copies at garage sales. (Apparently not everyone loves it as much as me.) I've now got four--YES FOUR--copies of it. That means I can play it in my car, and have a copy of it in three different rooms of the house. (Okay, I also buy a lot of boom boxes at garage sales.)
Hubby and I have side-by-side offices (I have to go through his to get to mine). Naturally, as soon as the first strains of "Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas" start up, he wails, "Oh, jeeze, the noise has started--again!" (That's where the sanity comes in.) We do have an agreement that I will NOT play the vocals until Thanksgiving . . . but I've already kind of cheated on that one. (Just a little.)
The one part of the holidays that I absolutely love but try to avoid is the cookies. The cakes. The candy. The hot hors d'oeuvres. The cold hors d'oeuvres. The eggnog. The chips and dips. Oh, I could go on, and on (and on). But man--over the lips and forever on the hips.
I've got six more weeks of music, decorations, and lights. And I'm going to revel in it. How about you?