I love this time of year. In terms of weather in LA, post-Thanksgiving is almost like a finish line. You made it through the heat; you can stop sweating. You can even find yourself feeling moderately cozy at times.
And in LA, as in the rest of the world, Christmas fever has set in. I say Christmas and not holidays because there is something uniquely temperamental, a little wild, that doesn’t seem as prevalent in the darkness and serenity of Hanukkah. Christmas is about excess and shiny stuff and busy schedules and family pressure. It’s intense; it’s a lot. It’s also my favorite holiday. That intensity brings big, pulsing feelings of love and goodwill, of friendship and kindness. While people get busy busting doors of big box stores, they also show up to help people in need like no other time of year. Droves of people, frenzied by their desire to give gifts to their loved ones and necessities to strangers. What an odd and beautiful time of year, seriously.
Me, I usually spend the bulk of this month in the kitchen. There are never enough cookies. Everything is begging to be roasted. There’s that bread or that biscuit or that cake or whatever-the-case-may-be that I think, this is the year to master that one. This year, though, I’ll have a newly born to contend with—due during the apex of all the crazy, Cyber Monday—and I doubt I’ll be able to keep pace with the usual hyper-productivity.
Which is also kind of fine and good, too, isn’t it? Taking time, setting some boundaries, taking it slow. That’s the kind of goodwill and friendship you can show yourself, I think, if your life allows for it. So this year, I’m giving the gift of slowness and nothingness and baby coos to myself; I’ll be back to spreading the cheer to others next year.
And what about you, Knit Wits? To fa-la-la or to calm the f down? Whatever your preferred mode this month, I wish you the best and, above all, a happy new year.