I love Christmas. I don’t love Christmas in November though, and especially not October. Since when has Christmas been a three-month event? It’s bad enough when you almost get decapitated by dangling Halloween skeletons in September. Who wants to be reminded about the impending clear-out of their bank-account? I’m surprised they haven’t started making cards saying ‘We wish you a premature Christmas.’ Eventually, maybe in a few years’ time, we’ll be enjoying our week of sunshine in July, getting the BBQ out, nipping down the shops with shades perched on our heads, intent on buying ice-cream, only to see Christmas decorations littering the shelves; snowmen with comic expressions; mince pies; crackers; Santa hats. That is a scenario I can imagine playing out in five years time, because, and I know its cliché, Christmas really does get earlier and earlier each year.
But honestly, despite this annoyance, Autumn/Winter is my favourite half of the year. It’s jam-packed with festive occasions; Halloween, Bonfire night, my birthday, Christmas, and New Year. Even though the weather is better, Spring/Summer is a bit dull really. The only things to look forward to are holidays (if you can afford one), seeing pretty flowers, and Easter. Though for me, Easter just means chocolate, something that I can get any time of the year.
Although Christmas is unquestionably a time for relaxation, I do harbour a few worries concerning the most wonderful time of the year.
- Will my body be able to cope with the sudden peaks in sugar/alcohol levels?
Despite my previous complaint about Christmas starting too early, in our house, the food and drink side of Christmas begins a good two or three weeks before the 25th. We usually buy enough booze to rival an off-licence, and stock our fridge a degree where we could probably comfortably open a restaurant. So yes, we certainly go a bit ‘mental’ at Christmas, and although I am not the most saintly eater normally, I am still certain that my body must be bunkering down in a metaphorical shelter to ride it out.
- Will our plastic Christmas tree have any needles left?
I know lots of families who buy a new, lovely-smelling tree, fresh from the ground every Christmas, and have a nice family outing to purchase it, trundling along happily in their car, swaying their heads to merry Christmas music. Not us. On the first weekend of December, we wearily yank our 12 year old plastic tree from the attic, which has now lost so many needles it looks like it’s been in a forest fire. We should really get another one. But honestly, who’s got the time?
- Will we have to endure tone-deaf Christmas carolers?
It’s happened before. One year, some awkward looking lads shuffled onto our doorstep and did the most horrifying rendition of a Christmas carol I barely recognised. I’m not even allowed to sing in my own house, so as you can imagine, they got short shrift.
There are other worries I suppose. What to get people. Will I burn anything? Will one of my relatives spontaneously admit they love Christmas jumpers and make us all wear matching ones? But I suppose, on the bright side, any worry about Christmas is usually a fairly nice worry.