So this year, with an eye toward trying new things, I'm officially reinstating traditions. However, I'm not really sure how a tradition gets started when it doesn't revolve around official things like the Santa cookies or the Halloween pumpkin. Do you do something once and find that you like it so much that you do it again, and after a while it's kind of a tradition? And when is it officially "The Tradition?" Hmmm. But the thing is, (and I can feel myself veering off the path here) what if there is a year when you don't want to do it? Or someone who was involved the first or second time can't make it or doesn't want to do the thing? Then are you breaking tradition? Here is the little twist in the path where my problems start to pop their heads up. This is exactly why my first five blogs ended after the first two entries: the minute I started them, they felt like serious commitments from which I could not escape. A net. A trap.
Ok, maybe now I'm letting you, my anonymous reader know just a little too much about me. I'm not commitment phobic. I have a mortgage, for God's sake. So back to the topic: traditions and how they get a stranglehold on you and choke the life out of you until you can't breathe and want to die, like a box of godiva chocolates on a Christmas table.
I've decided this year will be our first Thanksgiving movie day; potentially the start of a tradition if all goes well. So in this case, it will be Ally and Ben, Lou and me. We'll watch a new DVD at home: The Clique movie because our dear friend Ellen Marlow happens to be starring in it, and how often do you get to do that? Then dinner, and after dinner a movie out -- and I might even skip the popcorn if I'm disgustingly full of turkey and dessert. And voila! A tradition for this year at least. If we want to see a movie again next year? Two years of a tradition! And if we have company on an occasion of Thanksgiving Future, and if the companeers want to join us, along they come. If they are busy? No problem. No nets, no traps. It's not their tradition, after all. And if I don't want to go, I won't go and they can go themselves. The perfect tradition: you can put it on auto pilot. Tradition It's a perfect thing, is it not?
I'm practically feeling like Tevye in Fiddler on the Roof.