IT'S STILL THE MOST WONDERFUL TIME OF THE YEAR

It's still Christmas at my house.

Some of the decorations have migrated to the living room, some are even under the tree awaiting re-packing.  I have washed all of the Christmas glassware and it too is awaiting the re-wrapping and re-boxing for the next ten months.

For some reason, though, Christmas wants to hang around this year.

I'm not the only one who still has garland and tinsel and a decorated tree and candles in the windows (though I am running low on batteries for the candles, so they sit in the windows but are not lit in the windows at this point).  I have a friend across The Pond who is remarkably intelligent, an astrophysicist, and she still has her tree up.  As a matter of fact, she and her husband "forget" one or two strings of lights and garland every year so they "accidentally" have a little Christmas all year long.  I am thinking that's a mighty adoptable tradition.

I go out to dinner with a friend tonight, and we notice while driving around that many people still have lights on their houses and in their trees and bushes.  The restaurant is playing holiday music a clear two weeks after the official holiday.  Usually this would annoy me.  Usually I have Christmas broken down right after the New Year.  But this year for some reason Christmas wants to stay and stay and stay.  This year for some reason I am willing to allow it.

Perhaps it is the fact that there isn't mayhem in my living room.  I moved the coffee table out of the small room, and two-thirds of my children no longer live here, so there isn't a pile of gifts sitting haphazardly under the tree.  There is room for company and television viewing and chatting.  Perhaps it's the fact that I spent so many days, weeks, months prepping for the two fall weddings that I'm enjoying even more celebratory sensations, prolonging the inevitable new year by spreading some of the previous year into it, Old Father Time walking hand-in-hand Young Child Time as the stroll through 2014 together, at least for a while, rather than handing over the gauntlet at 12:01 a.m., January 1^st, and expecting a clean slate.

I'm not lazy.  I promise you that is not the reason Christmas still exists in my world right now.  It just seems like once I make it past that initial flurry to organize my life and be rid of 2013 as soon as possible, I find myself really enjoying it all, truly comfortable with the whole seasonal display that continues thriving.  Even the holiday toys are still out and working.  The barking dog still barks out songs, Santa still reads the Christmas Eve poem, another Santa still snores, the penguin still waddles, the snowman still lights up, Yukon Cornelius still yells "Wahoo!", and on and on. 

Most amazing is that even after writing about this, admitting my delayed reaction to the whole hauling back of the holly, is that none of this bothers me.  I don't find myself thinking, "Oh, I wonder what the neighbors think about the tree still in the window…"  I honestly don't care.  I don't care that I still have to pack everything away, I don't care that decorations need to be taken down, and I certainly don't care that every time I open or close the front door, the long string of sleigh bells jangles and chirps. 

Correction:  I do care; I care a great deal because right now these things bring me joy.  What I don't care about is whether or not you care.  My house; my tree; my rules.

But if you find yourself missing Christmas at all or wishing you could see the lights just one more time, I'm thinking I'll leave everything up at least until the weekend and maybe even until next weekend.  It will definitely be down by Valentine's Day, though, so feel free to stop by for some time with me and with the tree before then if you are having seasonal withdrawal symptoms. 

Maybe I'll even light the window candles for you.  With me, you never really know.

(P.S.  This morning during the 5 a.m. news broadcast, the two anchors are berated by the weatherman because they both have up their Christmas decorations and trees, but Todd the meteorologist believes everything should be gone since we are one-third into January.  Todd, you're a GRINCH!)