Leaves fly by

This year, I had the idea to convert Black Friday into a crafting/reading/writing day. Instead I took a nap.

If I hadn’t been so exhausted by the week’s earlier activities, I might have answered the call of quilt, book, holiday cards, novel-in-progress, or blog. In my younger years, I participated in cruising shopping mall parking lots for that elusive empty space, bleary-eyed scanning the piled boxes of new electronics, hunting for something good (and cheap) that may or may not exist (or actually be cheap.)

Since moving to Boston, I’ve adjusted my habits from participating in events like Black Friday (or Brown or Green Saturday) to devoting my teeny holiday gift budget to farmer’s market finds, craft fairs, and local, independent shops. Certainly, this marks a change in my values and capability (um, can’t haul a TV home in my panniers and IKEA is too far to bike) but also I’ve realized that the true appeal of shopping at 1 AM wasn’t the shopping, it was the togetherness.

The goods, the economy, that tiny surge of purchase-conquest -I’ve realized that none of these marked my true reason for braving the money-slinging hordes. It was sitting in the back seat of the car, my mother and brother up front, music on, street lights flashing by, headlights and tail lights of approaching and passing vehicles reflecting on all our faces.

This past Friday, I continued my true tradition: pulled on my shoes, hoisted my reusable shopping bag and bleary-eyed from my nap, set out on a walk down the ave with my closest available familymy partner.

How did you fare this past Friday -what color did you paint it?