Let There Be Light

I’ve accepted it — I am that girl.

The one who starts humming Christmas songs before Halloween candy wrappers hit the trash. The one who can’t walk past a strand of twinkle lights without imagining where they’d look best. The one who truly believes November 1st is a holiday all its own.

And this year? November 1st lands on a Saturday. Which, if you ask me, feels like divine alignment. The universe saying, “Go ahead, pull out the totes.”

Because next Saturday, in our home, is Christmas Decorating Day.

Why I Start Early

I know what people say, “Too soon!” or “What about Thanksgiving!”

But here’s the truth: by November in Ketchikan, it’s dark, it’s wet, and it’s easy to feel that heaviness creep in. The kind that settles on your shoulders as the daylight disappears and the house feels smaller with each storm that rolls through.

So I fight it the best way I know how, with Christmas lights.

With sugar cookie candles burning before noon, Bing Crosby echoing through the house, and the boys picking out which ornament goes where. I fill the house with warmth before the chill has a chance to settle too deep.

The Joy, Peace, and Lightness It Brings

The moment the first strand of lights clicks on, something shifts. The chaos of daily life softens, the noise turns to laughter, the clutter feels cozy instead of overwhelming.

It brings joy, that spark that brightens even the gloomiest afternoon.

It brings peace, the gentle kind that comes when the house smells like pine and the world feels calm.

And it brings lightness, that beautiful, hard-to-describe feeling that lifts the weight of seasonal darkness and replaces it with childlike wonder.

Christmas decorating day isn’t just about tinsel and garland; it’s my reset button. My reminder that even in the middle of endless rain, I choose magic.

By the time the tree glows and the living room smells like cinnamon and spruce, the whole house hums with that feeling this is what joy and Christmas magic looks like.

So yes, I’m a crazy Christmas lady. I start early, I go overboard, and I wouldn’t have it any other way. Because for me, November 1st isn’t the start of the holidays, it’s the start of hope.

And hope looks an awful lot like twinkle lights on a Christmas tree on a rainy Alaskan Saturday.