Singin' in the Rain

I love this hat.

No, I wasn’t in a production of Hello, Dolly! (Not that it would be a bad thing. I would practically kill to play Dolly Levi.) I was wearing that giant hat of Flying Nun proportions to go Christmas caroling.

I hear you out there. I know at least one of you is out there hollering “But it’s not even Thanksgiving yet!” I love Thanksgiving as much as the next girl, but I didn’t make the plans here. I just showed up for the fun.

Our town has an annual “Victorian Holidays” celebration. Our Main Street lights up with activity as we try to recreate the feeling of Christmas in a different era. Think life-size “Currier & Ives.” We put on our best Victorian duds and stroll Main Street singing and making a cheery spectacle.

Well, cheery at first, anyway! By the time we were finished, it was probably more of a just plain spectacle. DSguy and I had walked to the meeting point for caroling when it was lightly raining. By the time we were hoofing it home, it was coming down so hard that we should have been wearing waders. We were getting drenched.

Ginormous chapeaus with ostrich feathers don’t do too well in the rain. I looked like I was wearing a drowned rat taking up residence in a big purple cave. Take into consideration the size of the hat in proportion to my head, and I probably looked like a bobble-head wearing a drowned rat in a purple cave. Thankfully, a kind shopkeeper lent us her umbrella. (Thanks, Trudy!)

Despite being wet and cold and needing to defrost my toes, I would do it all over again in a second. I love being part of the atmosphere. I love celebrating Jesus’ birth with anyone who will stop to listen to us sing. I love living in this little town where characters and community abound. Sometimes it’s like living in a storybook—one with vivid colors and a happy ending.

So, as I hang my borrowed hat up to dry, I wish you a Merry Christmas, albeit a bit early. Now would someone please pass the turkey?