Although I enjoy reading within all genres, one of my habits is to lean into festive fiction the closer it gets to the holidays. Since my family refuses to cater to anything Christmas until after Thanksgiving, my reading list, packed full of small towns decked out in holiday lights, tinsel, and falling snow, is my form of rebellion. I begin diving into these warm and fuzzy beauties around mid-October, refusing to venture into other genres until after the New Year.
For example, framed playbills cover an entire wall in my bedroom. Since I prefer art that tells a story, I love that I can relieve each of these extraordinary nights spent at the theater every time I glance at my wall. I prefer this to simply hiding them in a box where I will undoubtedly forget their existence. Until recently, this wall space only displayed programs from Broadway productions. However, that all changed with my visit to the Grand Ole Opry, an experience so memorable that I knew this unique piece required a place on my wall.
However, not all of our trips need to be quite as grand. Although jaunts across the ocean provide endless excitement, they also prove tiring. Sometimes, the travel itch is scratched just as well by staying closer to home, which I discovered when I planned a weekend at The Mitford Museum this past May.