As I have recently been informing my ever-attentive friends and family members, the period between Thanksgiving and New Year’s Eve — what I like to call “Meteorologically Icy and Nippy Time of Year in Which Everything Smells Pleasant,” or MINTYWESP — is a source of great emotionally charged delight, for me, at least.
From the instant a beaming Al Roker severs the ribbon at the Macy’s parade to the televised ignition of the celebratory fireworks ushering in the New Year, I’m in full-out, no-questions-asked holiday season mode. (Think the “Crazy Target Lady” from that store’s ad campaign, sans gift-wrapping skills.) The frenzy of Black Friday, the palpable approach of winter, the welcome celebration of my birth, the exquisiteness of the seven fishes at our annual family gatherings! See, now I’m getting choked up.