I’ve been telling myself that we can’t get into the holidays yet. We can’t celebrate anything! I’m going away this week, so we’ll celebrate when I’m home.

Sometimes I just have no idea what I’m talking about.

Late Friday night, fuelled by powdery community hockey rink grade hot chocolate (one of my favourite treats) I decided enough was enough. I was kicking off Christmas. We hopped in the car, hands numb and breath hanging in the air, and slipped over icy streets to the nearest shopping district. We went to the LC to gather up wine from France and South Africa, and seasonal beer that tastes like Cinnamon and Christmas. We scoured the fake tress until we found a skinny little waif of a seven footer that was beautiful and pre-lit. It graciously allowed us to skip the near-marital experience of trying to get a real tree into its stand in favour of plumping up the new tree’s wire branches.

I’m not really sure how many time I referred to myself as our “Tree Fluffer” but each time it was funnier than the last, I promise you.

Sometimes waiting for the perfect time to celebrate gets in the way of the joy. As an incessant planner I always want to know what’s next, what will be happening when, and if there’s anyone around who will humour me enough to synchronize watches with me. But sometimes the best thing for my heart is a late night mission to the liquor store, some cheap hot chocolate, puppies scrambling underfoot, and a wire ode to a real tree to have start the season right.

And, as in all things, seasonal micro brews really help.