The holidays in New England have a way of sneaking up on you. One day, the pumpkins are still perched on the porch steps, and the next, the first frost dusts the deck, the boots come out of storage, and suddenly every coat you own is hanging somewhere it doesn’t belong. December here is equal parts magical and overwhelming — candlelit windows glowing at dusk, holiday trains rumbling through town, flurries dancing down Main Street, and yet the constant shuffle of wet mittens,