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Day One: Monthly Letter
Did I tell you about the day I ran over Santa Claus? If it hadn't happened to me I wouldn't believe it, but one afternoon last December I ran over Santa on my way home from the post office. I didn't mean to do it. After all, I'd been wondering for a few weeks now why anyone would lay a dead Santa on her front lawn. It's hardly the most festive sight I've come across. There he was, morning after morning, sprawled on his back in the crunchy grass, flat as a red-suited pancake, right next door to an unidentifiable blob of acid green that looked suspiciously like radioactive waste. Anyway, there I was that afternoon around 4:30, squinting into the setting sun, just about to hang a right onto my street when the blustery winds suddenly picked up collapsed Santa and sent him flying straight under the wheels of my Buick. I hit the brakes and leaped from the car. Dead Santa looked a lot like the Wicked Witch after Dorothy spilled the water all over her beautiful wickedness. (No, I didn't feel for a pulse!) A woman of about my age burst through her front door screaming, "You ran over our Santa!" And, Scout's honor, I heard myself say the following with a straight face, "I did not! Santa ran into me!" I really said it. And, what's worse, neither one of us laughed. I told her it was the wind. She said I wasn't watching where I was going. I told her I always brake for Santas but she didn't even crack a smile. (Serves me right for making light of Santa's plight!) So I climbed back into the Buick, backed it up two feet, climbed back out, then watched as she gathered up the remains. "Hey, wait a minute!" I pointed toward the big plastic nipple on the back of his red jacket. "Santa's not ruined: he's inflatable!" And that big blob of acid green on her lawn was inflatable too. He was actually an impressive ten-foot Grinch Who Stole Christmas that we discovered in all of its shimmering Day-Glo glory when we went for a walk later that night. Who knew? It was clear I needed to get out after dark a little more often. See for yourself right here. I noticed today that the Grinch and Santa are both in residence again on my neighbor's front lawn, ready to greet a new holiday season and I'll admit the sight made me laugh out loud. I love holiday traditions and I'm delighted to see another one taking shape here in the neighborhood. One thing I've noticed about central New Jersey is that we love our holiday decorations. I don't care if it's Groundhog Day, Easter, the Fourth of July, Halloween, name your holiday and we'll find a way to decorate our houses to celebrate the occasion. Pastel eggs dangling from bare branches to welcome spring. Scarecrows sitting idly on front porch gliders in the autumn. Santa complete with sleigh and reindeer blazing with lights from the roof of a neighbor's house beginning Thanksgiving night. Electric candles flicker in front windows all winter long. I'm writing this to you on the night before Thanksgiving. We woke up to a glittering layer of snow this morning, just enough to make our backyard look downright magical but not enough to ruin anyone's holiday travel plans. This afternoon we hung our wreath on the front door, a lush dark green ring of fresh-smelling pine with a gigantic red velvet bow and we settled it in place with great pomp and ceremony. It's the first of many holiday rituals we have come to cherish over the years and the one that symbolizes the start of the season. Whatever your holiday, cherish the rituals and traditions that make it so special to you and your family. When all is said and done, the gifts are forgotten but the memories last forever. So here's what's new around the website for December:
Have a wonderful December!
With affection, 
In stores now:
Archived letters:
November 2002
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December 2002
