Christmas is coming and the geese are getting fat. Once upon a time it was traditional to have roast goose for Christmas. Now everyone has turkey.
The thing I really miss about Christmas is that Christmas cards have gone the way of tinsel - no longer necessary, given our constant connection via social media and smart phones that can deliver instant greeting just when you're about to serve Bloody Marys and oysters. All good. It's nice to share. But there's something special about choosing cards for people, writing personal greetings and exercising patience at the post office queues to purchase stamps and send off cards before the end of the year. It's very 'old school' but I still do it, though admittedly, my list is shortening. Not working means there are fewer cards to write (and fewer gifts to buy) but it also means that after a while, people fall off your Christmas list and before you know it, the mail is full of flyers and junk without a Christmas card in sight. I miss receiving cards. I thought perhaps this year I'd just buy a whole of lot cards and send myself good wishes full of joy (without the added expense and time of postage). But there's really little point. It's the thought that counts.
Last Sunday we put up our Christmas tree. The last few years I went all modern/contemporary and bought a very high end led-light, stick-like tree (tortured willow) and decorated it very minimally with clear glass and pale blue baubles. But I realised it didn't really say 'Christmas' so when we were moving I left the tree, in its original packaging, on the pavement (hoping that someone may want it) and brought our old faithful traditional Christmas tree with us instead. I put up the same decorations I've been putting up for years: red ribbon bows, green bows, gold and red balls. It looks festive and very 'christmassy'. Sometimes, traditions are there for reasons. Santa may not be coming down the chimney but he will know where to place the presents.
Merry Christmas everyone.
With Christmas fast approaching goodwill and good tidings morph into stress and rising levels of tension. The sheer madness of the Christmas shopping rush ...
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