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As much as I begrudge bidding farewell to fall on this last day of November, I look with great eagerness toward the Advent season. I have a constant refrain of “O Come, O Come Emmanuel” running through my head in an attempt to prepare me. I love Christmas, but there is something looming over me this year. This is the year my husband gets to decorate. In a panic to reach a compromise, last year we decided that we would rotate Christmas decorating. I got last year and he got this year. I got jipped since last year we still had not finished unpacking our house until about March.

My husband describes our decorating differences in the following ways: mine are elegant, his are fun. I object. Not only are my decorations fun, but I AM FUN!

I digress. He wants our house to be a technicolored display of everything that is tacky – bubbling lights, blinking lights, pink lights, purple lights, red lights, tinsel, neon garlands. The list goes on and on. I’m actually afraid the neighbors will think we’ve gone quite mad as most of the year we avoid eye contact with them and keep the shades drawn. However, I can say nothing because last year I did get my beautiful, elegant and fun (!) tree.

I’m incorporating elements of my own – poinsettias, snowy owls, red candles, burlap bits and bobs – but I’m trying to do it oh, so subtly. New Christmas guest towels in the bathroom? Check. Some lovely Christmas placemats on the dining table? Check. A subtle pine cone here, there and everywhere? Check. Some bells on the door? Oooh, I’ll have to get on that.

I figure if the worst of our problems is overdecorating, we’re setting up for a pretty good second year. This really is the most wonderful time of the year.