Well... Halloween’s over. Not sure about you guys, but we take that holiday very seriously in my house. Maybe it has something to do with my deep-rooted love for costumes… maybe. I might have been the kid that wore her cowboy costume to school on a day that wasn’t Halloween. Dead winter, in fact. I remember because it was a pain in the butt to trade those chaps in for snow pants at recess. But that brings me to my next point. Now begins The Season.
I can now absentmindedly hum Christmas carols at work without sounding like a complete premature nincompoop. I still can’t sing them mindedly until after Thanksgiving, but that’s alright. Only three weeks.
I’ll be honest though. I got in the holiday spirit a little early this year. At work, we were sent one of those catalogs full of Christmas card options. I flipped through it one day on my lunch hour and there was this one picture that jumped out at me. It’s probably the most cliché scene ever. One of those Thomas Kinkaid types, with a snowy farmhouse at sunset and sleigh rides. But it wasn’t really the scene that got me. It was the sunset. The orange glow setting below the silhouetted snow-covered trees. It reminded me of winter nights at my dad’s house, sitting on the vent, trying to get warm and looking out his large back windows at the sunset. We didn’t own a farm house or have sleigh rides pass our front door. But that was my sunset.
Have you ever stumbled on something cliché that even though you knew it was cliché, it made you a little nostalgic? What makes a cliché personal? Is it your own experiences, or is it something in its delivery?
