You'll shoot yer eye out, kid.

Ohhhh…I smelled a waft of Christmas this morning. It’s not even autumn yet. A little frosty nip in the air drifting through the open window, stimulating all my holiday-cheer-sensing nerve endings, awakening the seasonal nostalgia.

I love the holidays. No matter the reason for celebrating, for me it’s about the gathering. Friends, family, all together, celebrating autumn and staving off winter’s sharp bite with feasting and celebration.

Christmas to me is the most nostalgic. The sights and smells weave a frosted tapestry of snow-covered memories backlit by the rainbow radiance of a million twinkling multi-colored lights. The gifts, the cheer, the caroling, the warmth of a fire to hold off the chill. Ah, wonderful reminiscence...

The crystalline tinkle of lights being strung, and that first nutmeggy soft sip of eggnog, with just a hint of rum, because grandma had to have her tipple.

The on-key, off-key drunken singing of all those classic winter/christmas songs…oh, Frank Sinatra, how we’ll miss you.

The ecstatic squeals of glee as the house erupts in a confetti blizzard of torn wrapping paper. I can only imagine what the kids will sound like when they get up to open THEIR presents…

That crunchy burny sweet feeling of peppermint stinging your sinuses while chomping on a candy cane that was recently perched on the rim of a giant steaming mug of hot cocoa topped with what was once a mountain of tiny marshmallow pillows, now a gooey mass of chocolatey deliciousness.

The warm, spicy humidity that permeates throughout, of cookies and cakes and pies and meats and root vegetables and gingerbread being baked or roasted or broiled or cooked in any of a thousand ways…

And decorating the tree.

That glorious piece of pine, fresh cut, smelling of piney pineness, set firmly into its stand, at its base a beautiful red and green plaid skirt on which all the presents sit piled high, shiny and ribbony in their perfectness.

Sigh. I cannot wait for Christmas to get here.