Blue Noel

Well folks, Christmas is only 35 days away now. I'm proud to have prolonged my merriment until a respectably advanced November date; now it's time to ramp things up.

I think that part of my chronic premature carol-crushing stems from, as Edna put it, Ecclesiastical choral experiences. Preparations for the Christmas concert circuit, special advent services, festivals of lessons and carols, and other musical events in December always necessitated rehearsing Christmas music shortly after the pumpkins perished.

One example of the early onset of premature carol syndrome:

It was November 1995, and we were fresh from the excitement of Hallow's Eve and the Quebec Referendum. (I had been allowed to stay up late to watch the vote count on TV; we had chips and pop while tracking the quivering numbers; Mom thought Bob Rae's commentary was the most intelligent that evening and I'm inclined to agree). I remember waltzing into a Canadian Tire in Napanee with the family after a Saturday morning Choir practice the first weekend in November, feeling an anxious sense of excitement over my desire to get festive prematurely. I believe I purchased some shiny blue garland and Christmas balls in hopes of decorating my room. Sadly, the gap between youthful imagination and actual implementation of artistic design was wide: The garland hung over the dresser of the room I shared with Chester haphhazardly, a lazy invocation of Noel. It didn't matter. I still felt the excitement of anticipation. I read A Christmas Carol under the covers, felt a sense of magic in the sight of the County courthouse, illuminated and beaming through my window, visible from over the rooftops of the Sydenham Ward and across City Park.

But I digress: Yes, that ritual of earliness never quite leaves a chorister, however far he or she may stray from the choir stalls.

Speaking of stalling, my final days of law school seem to be unravelling with more of a whimper than a bang. I'm too stoked for Shawn's concert, and time with friends in Eastern Ontario, and the family dinner I'm hosting, and singing in church on the 24th, and that decadent interim between the 25th and New Year that revolves around reconnecting with the people you love and allowing the climax of Jesus' birthday to fade into a haze of leftovers and new books, snowy walks and turkey casseroles.

But I am getting ahead of myself, here. I'm loath to wish it all away, because the waiting and preparing has always been my favourite part of Christmas. Last night Angela and I really kicked things off with a bang. Apparently, I'm not through with my Blue Christmas phase. The loft is now awash in a blue glow. I have to admit, we weakened last night and listened to Kenny and Dolly while making Pork Tenderloin and playing around with our loot from Canadian Tire. It was a fantastic evening, and hopefully the springboard for a number of great evenings to come.