And it's not even December 1

Hubby just put the finishing touches on our Christmas lights. Outdoor ones, this year. Now that we have a house we can string them on. And the spare room closet is already filling up with gifts from "Santa". All this before the end of November. What's up with that?

Well, at least we waited until after Halloween. And we would stick out like oddballs (more so than usual) if we didn't keep up with the neighbours, whose eaves are already well bedecked with that sparkly, LED glow.

The moment the clock struck midnight on American Thanksgiving, all the broadcasters started up their Christmas machines: Shrek the Halls, Merry Madagascar, a Kung Fu Panda Christmas. (Thank gawd they still show the Grinch, at least.) Doodle has been positively riveted to the screen, and thanks to the magic of PVRs, we get to watch them all again. And AGAIN. And AGAIN. We haven't even picked up an advent calendar yet and she's already counting down the days. Is it Christmas today? Tomorrow? The tomorrow after that?

The Smurf experienced her first snowfall, staring with rosy-cheeked wonder at these fat, white fluffy things falling out of the clouds. Her little brain is working overtime to absorb everything coming at her, but judging by the giant grin on her face, she's taking it in stride.

I resolve to drink more bubbly this holiday season. Life is just too damn short not to. We've got a few parties lined up over the coming weeks, including a brunch where I've offered to make mimosas. There's another Poema Cava, a Wolf Blass Yellow Label Brut, and a Domaine Chandon in the cellar; maybe I should get more, just in case of emergencies. Would *love* to get my hands on some Gloria Ferrer Blancs de Noirs ...

I'm making my (to do) list and checking it twice. Cards, tree, presents, baking ... let it BEGIN!