'Twas the week before Christmas.

                Hello, lovelies.

         It’s a week before Christmas, and every shop is full of shoppers. Presents are being bought and wrapped and posted out to all our nearest and dearest. Decorations are being hung, and houses are being cleaned all in readiness for next Friday. But is all the effort worth all the fuss? Can’t we just celebrate the way we are? Do we have to put the extra effort in? Should we really be trying to keep up with the Jones’s? Or is Christmas really about being who you are and using what you have?

            As I was walking my dogs today, I marvelled at all the decorated houses. Each house was more decked out than the last. Large inflatable Santa’s. Light up candy canes. Flashing stars. The houses all looked like their owners are ready for Christmas. And I thought to myself, will I ever be ready? My house was beautifully cleaned by my eldest daughter today. So my house is ready. I’ve brought ready-made pastry and mince pie filling, so the mince pies are almost ready. I’ve started putting my Christmas food box together, so the food is nearly ready. So, why then do I not feel ready? I’ve been wearing Christmas jumpers all this week. I’ve found my festive scarves and are wearing them. I’ve been singing along to all and any Christmas songs and Carols that are on the radio. But the Christmas spirit is still lacking in my home.

            I remember being at primary school, writing cards for everyone in the class. The hula hoops hung from the ceiling, with our freshly made stained glass windows and toilet roll angels hanging from them. Making Santa’s college beard using cotton wool, before sticking the giant painting on the wall. And singing Little Donkey at every assembly. Back then, from the 1st December until the last day of term, we were all full of the Christmas spirit. The excitement. The anticipation. The pile of Christmas cards, and playing board games and watching videos on the last day of term. And, of course, snow. I remember having snow on Christmas day. Snow that reached my hip. Then I felt, all the way down to my bones, that it was Christmas.

            This year may not be a good year to judge the Christmas spirit. With advice such as we can meet up with our families, as long as we follow the government guidelines. We’re told to take personal responsibility this Christmas to limit the spread of the virus and protect our loved ones, particularly if they are vulnerable. So we need to think very carefully about the risks of meeting up with others and only doing so if we absolutely need to. For many, this will mean that it is not possible to celebrate Christmas in the way we normally would. So a smaller Christmas is a safer Christmas, and a shorter Christmas is a safer Christmas. The longer you meet others for and the more people you see, the higher the risk of catching and spreading the virus. One in three people with coronavirus does not show symptoms, which means you can spread the virus to others before you know you’re ill.

            We have survived the year with Covid, so it shouldn’t really have any effect on our Christmas’. I have arranged to Skype my best friend on Christmas day when I would usually spend all of Boxing day at her house. It’s not the same, but it’s something. And it means that I can spend all of Boxing day in my pyjamas, and that's a plus. I’ve limited Christmas day itself to just me and my children. Not so much fun. But it’s enough. So, will I be ready for Christmas? No. But then I realised that it doesn’t matter. The Christmas spirit is more than having a beautifully cleaned house. It doesn’t matter how many or how few presents are under the tree. What matters is being present for Christmas. Not killing ourselves trying to make that perfect Christmas, and just living this Christmas. We have one week to do what we can, and then its time for us to enjoy being in the moment. We can never recreate the Christmas’s of our youth, but we can make this one whatever it is we want it to be.  






Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Where is my magic wand?

Image
     Hello, lovelies.            They say patience is a virtue, but given half a chance, I bet most of us would take the easiest route possible. It’s not that we want to jump the queue or be rewarded for skipping the boring bits, it's just that we all have so much to do, that putting in the time, money or effort needed is sometimes a step too far. And I find that I don’t have the time to do any of the things that I want to do. Honestly, I am never going to read a third of the books that are all neatly piled up on my overflowing bookshelves. I have still to paint my bedroom, which has been on my to-do list for about two years now. And as for my beloved allotment, I cannot tell you where my days have gone, because I can never seem to find the time to go there. Why can’t all the things in life be easy? For some, they can pick up something quickly, whereas, for me, everything just takes such a long time. Like writing this blog, for example. I hav...
Read more

Emma's shorts. It's the final countdown

Image
Hello, lovelies. Please enjoy a daily short story. It’s the Final Countdown. “Get ready, for here we go! It’s the countdown to 2025!” Geoffrey rolled his eyes as the DJ danced behind his ridiculously complicated, brightly lit mixing decks. Was it necessary to bring it all with him for this small office’s New Year’s Eve work party? With the added effect of spinning and flashing disco lights, and mood lighting, they’d turned off the office strip overhead lights, why was he so happy that the year was nearly over? Was the prospect for 2025 so earth-shatteringly different to the year that he’d just lived through? Well. If he was that happy, bopping out of time to cheesy pop music, then he obviously had a much better year than Geoffrey had. “Here we go, ten!” Why, Geoffrey thought, had he allowed himself to be dragged to this office party? He’d much rather be at home, alone a...
Read more

Times, they are a changing

Image
       Hello, lovelies.        Yep, it’s that time of year again. We went from a scorching hot summer to instant autumn all in the blink of an eye. Last week I was sleeping with the fan on, and this week I’m wondering where I had put my autumn jumpers. I both love and hate this time of year. For years September has meant new school uniforms and an endless list of stationery my children needed for the new term. The roads that had been traffic-free for the summer holidays are now jammed with stressed parents as they drag their children off to school. And once again, I have failed to reach my summer goal of having a beach-ready body. No, all I am prepared for is cosy nights in, wrapped up tightly in a nice warm blanket and working through my watch list on Netflix. But mostly, the autumn means that we’re creeping our way up to Christmas. And that means money. Lots of money. And that is the one thing that I don’t have. We’ve gone from relaxing on the w...
Read more