The Fat Ewe Farm and Bed and Breakfast
The Fat Ewe Farm and Moose Hills Inn
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Not Doing Christmas

12/17/2016

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I used to. I mean, there was a time when for the month or two prior to Christmas, I was caught up in the need to bake, to buy, to make and consume. There were Christmas parties and gatherings to attend, and gifts to purchase for everyone. L'est I forgot someone who was not really someone I should have felt the need to purchase a gift for, such as the boss, or some coworkers, I fretted. I fretted about the decorations. Would they be extravagant enough to wow those who saw them? At one point, I decorated the church I attended and felt incredible pressure to made the tree unique and exquisite as no other tree has ever been. Live flowers and greens were carefully shaped into wreathes and boughs graced the surfaces, tied with luxurious bows and all sparkling with twinkling lights in the new colour of the season. 

Yes, there was a time when I was caught in that trap of being a consumer, when I felt the pressure to perform, to buy, buy buy and buy and to make Christmas happen, as if without me, it would not come.  I often thought about the Whos from Whoville in the Dr. Seuss classic of the Grinch. They had Christmas without all the trappings. Why couldn't we? 

And the expense. Some years it took until June to pay off the credit cards that were used to pay for the debts to make that Christmas happen. I was aware that some of the gifts I gave were not appreciated and were either regifted or given to charity. But I was in a Christmas frenzy, dictated by those in charge of telling humans in polite society, just what to do and what to buy and what to wear, what colours to use and what foods to create. So, if one or two were not overly pleased with my efforts, did it matter? The point was, I did what needed to be done. Or did I?

Today, life is entirely different. It has taken 6 years of dedicated work on my behalf to divorce myself from those societal dictates. I no longer fret and worry about having the best and latest decorations in the right colours, or concern myself with purchasing just the perfect gifts. As a matter of fact, Christmas is just another day. Yes, I still celebrate with others, as they are benevolent enough to include me in their festivities, but that desperate need to conform has left me. Thank goodness! 

Thank goodness it no longer matters what the fashionistas are wearing, what trappings and trimmings are en vogue and what dress, sparkly or plain, and burgundy or red, I must choose. I do not have to buy the latest fake tree with the prewired lights, because the last year's tree had to be strung instead. Not doing Christmas is very freeing. There is no pressure to purchase the present that the loved ones will remember. There is no pressure to make the meal that is unforgettable. It is another day, a day when the celebration is in the heart, the drama long forgotten. Christmas is peace. Christmas is just that. Peace on my Earth, at last. I wish for you, one day, it will be so too. I wish many blessings for you and your household in ways that money cannot buy and that your spirit will sing with the joy of the season the whole year through. I do. 
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    Fluffy writes daily about the experiences on the farm and with the bed and breakfast patrons. 

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