I'm in a Christmas funk.
Because we have this lame little tree that our kitten keeps knocking over. Because there is no one else to make the cookies, buy the presents, wrap them, fill out the cards and earn the money except us. Because I don't get to spend it with my family. Because I keep eating cookies and keep feeling guilty and fat. Because we keep our apartment at temperatures so chilly that I don't take showers so that I can avoid the horror of leaving my hot shower.
So I've determined that we should skip Christmas/the month of December and go here.
"We'll have a fresh Christmas tree waiting for you, and supply you with a basket of ornaments; you'll wake up to bountiful country breakfasts and end the days with delectable dinners; there'll be time for skating, sledding and skiing, or just cozying up to the wood stove! There will be all the tastes, and scents of the season, together with family and friends, twinkling lights and overstuffed stockings."
And by family and friends, they mean Shea and I.
The package includes:
Three nights in a Vermont country inn on 570 acres
Full breakfast and afternoon snacks (hot cider, cabot cheese and cookies)
A Christmas tree to decorate and a stuffed stocking
Christmas Eve and Christmas Day dinners
And we could go to Christmas Eve church here and ponder what Christmas is really about.
No presents. No cooking or baking. No small talk. No "Christmas Story" marathon. No driving white knuckled on icy roads.
It'd be the best Christmas ever.