And then there's the problem of Jimmy (and his accomplice, Bing).
Because my parents adored It's a Wonderful Life, I grew up not only appreciating it as a fantastic film, but associating the ritual of watching it with family, happiness, and Christmas. Some people associate Christmas historical romances with the Regency Era (because those pesky Regencies are just so unavoidable!), but any thought I have of the season transports me to the WWII era.
I suddenly want to pull out my copy of "Band of Brothers." I feel like forgiving the ultimate cheesy tearfulness of The Best Years of Our Lives. I seriously need to find my copy of White Christmas. "I'll Be Home for Christmas" always makes me cry, and then my hands itch to write a Christmas story set in 1945.
No! Do not interfere with my work in progress. But Leicestershire in the year 1200 could not feel farther away from the cozy hearth-and-home feelings I associate with these traditional movies and this time of year.
And wasn't Jimmy cute? I could eat him with a spoon.