Ahoy,
December is my favorite month of the year. Many people are appalled whenever I say winter is my favorite season in Chicago. Aghast, they question my sanity as I gush about the snow, and my favorite winter Chicago activity - shoveling. But there are many other things to love about December. Many of them have to do with the holiday season. In retrospect, it's silly that I'm so smitten with the holidays because growing up my family never celebrated anything to do with the holiday season. Most years, it was my brother and I at home alone. We were so bored, and I'm absolutely positive we had far too much freedom with the remote control. We watched Christmas specials all day long.
Despite my parents ambivalence toward American holidays, we did have a fake tree as kids. My parents were probably still into the whole being American thing, and conforming to American traditions. Their intention was probably to give us as "normal" a childhood as they believed could be bought on American soil. I suppose the novelty of the holiday wore off with the belief of the tooth fairy and Santa Claus. But as we grew older, it was up to my brother and I to make the most of the holidays because our parents would always have to work.
Thus my memories of the holidays are mostly my brother and I barely tall enough to reach the top of the tree. We had to stack additional stools onto a chair if we were intending to put a star on the top. This was probably not the safest endeavor. I remember my ideas for homemade ornaments using our duplicate vacation pictures because we had already shattered so many glass ones we could hardly adorn one side of the tree (so glad they make shatter-proof now). And the thousands upon thousands of construction paper cutouts I orchestrated my brother to snip. Our factory of 2 employees, with seasonal work. My mom would come home mortified at the mess we had made, as we continued snipping into the wee hours.
December is my favorite. It will always be.
dashingly pined,
jt
I give to you my one and only item for my Black Friday haul. I suppose you can't really say Black Friday, more like post-Thanksgiving. On a typical Tuesday night, I convinced the resident rocket scientist to take me to Target. I had absolutely no intention of coming home with a beauteous specimen such as this fine 13 pounds of poultry. For less than $10! Forget the commotion of a Thanksgiving turkey, just wait for the post-holiday calm of a clearance turkey. On a whim, I decided this was the year I wanted to cook my first turkey. In a style befitting of only my intentions, I decided this was the year I would spatchcock a turkey. 
