A bit of tinsel and some baubles on the trees in the garden, a few boughs from an evergreen hedge, which counts as a tree in our house and that’s it.
But I’ll be glad when every magazine and newspaper stops suggesting I make snowflake cakes, out of snow presumably. Then there is a guilt free Christmas choccy yule log and a biscotti which consists of cashew, cranberry and spice. Presumably, the cranberries can count as one of your ‘five a day’. And fine by me if Mary Berry wants to fiddle about glazing her gammon, and baking her canapes, but all those Celebrity Chefs cashing in like they are pop stars, honestly. I’m not sure I know many people who can afford to have a turkey and goose or the ten tons of ingredients for all the cakes and stuff anyway? It’s all a guilt trip for mothers, poor devils. Or fairyland for the rest of us, surely no one is actually slaving away in the kitchen like this.
I imagine most women of a certain age are out busy buying party frocks with matching leopard print knickers for their upmarket Christmas parties. Or maybe they are getting their hair dyed a lovely shade of ‘Deadly’ so that they can flirt outrageously with Santa. I know I am. At least I’ll be ready to hang around on someone’s stairs with a glass of Chardonnay.
I will be doing a family lunch this weekend, it’s traditional that ‘mama’ does it early so everyone can do their own thing of the day, but lucky me we will be going out, too. To be honest we often pop down to one of several local pubs and join in their general ambiance, we did it on Christmas Day a couple of years ago. It’s great in the Coach and Horses in Rottingdean.
We’ve got more acquaintances than friends, maybe because old friends have had the annoying habit of ‘popping their clogs’ in recent years. I am not sure we are friend material these days anyway. We’re not that good at small talk, hate Scrabble, most TV Christmas specials, and the programmes that suggest their reports about the homeless, the starving and those poor devils still fighting the odd war will make a significant difference.
But at least I am spared being an ‘old granny’ like some I’ve heard about, stuck in a corner with a sherry and a paper hat, thanking everyone for the new slippers and the Amaryllis but secretly thinking ‘for God’s sake how many play stations, computer games, laptops, mobiles, lego castles, goblin warriors, fairy outfits and jumbo sweet packs do these kids really need?’
Glad the weather is still brill, so I can pop off to see if the sprouts actually sprouted on the allotment, nip round to a couple of mates with a bottle and then we’ll think about festive season like real oldies. We could walk along the beach, I could practice my harp, (can actually play a few tunes now) I could look at all my poetry notes. We’ll definitely top up the bird feeders, and maybe read the stack of books we have been meaning to read all year and eat, drink and be merry!