I broach this subject not to speak of Amy Grant, but November. And I'm talking to you there. Yes, you. You with the lights strung, and the stars out. The red and white and green on your door. The cinnamon and pine and vanilla scented candles. You know who you are - you've been playing your Christmas station on Pandora lately. I've heard you.
Okay, not really on that last part.
Weird stalker-talk aside, I yell at you in the friendliest way possible,
"LEAVE NOVEMBER ALONE!"
November is not December's ugly friend. She is not The Other Sister. November is not some mediocre meal that we rush through and barely pick at because this place is known for it's dessert. No ma'am. No sir. Don't do that. November is stinkin' awesome! Let's
occupy celebrate November!
Yes, she's full of rain clouds and cold winds and mud in the house. But [insert corny without-the-rain-we-wouldn't-feel-the-sun comment here]. You know? November is for spending time with friends and movie nights and cocoa and crazy weather and leaves falling. November is a month for the last of the year's adventures. November is for chainsaws and hunting, dadgummit, and if nothing else, those two things demand the full respect due them.
(What, your November is NOT for chainsaws and hunting? That might be a dealbreaker... we'll have to discuss your other redeeming qualities to know for sure. Surely you don't whisper in regular conversation? Do you have any special skills?)
|Safety first, apparently.|
Or perhaps Handsome is a model for Stihl?
I'll bet they wish he was.
Excited for Turkey and Family and Chainsaws,
p.s.- How happy am I that the
molestache mustache is gone? SO HAPPY!