Hello dear readers!
It’s beginning to look a lot like Christmas.
This is especially true of a street I regularly walk the dog down which, at the moment, could convincingly double for Blackpool illuminations.
And really, is there any need? I mean... really?
Winner Winner Xmas Dinner
And really, is there any need? I mean... really?
Winner Winner Xmas Dinner
Now, just to clear something up, I’m not against Christmas, I’m not the anti-Santa, not by a long chalk, although having accusations of humbuggery being leveled at me has become something of a yearly tradition (I was actually bought a packet of the eponymous stripey mints last year, by the local church).
There are actually a lot of Xmas traditions that I love. Being a glutton for gluttony, mince pies, stollen, Christmas pudding, Christmas cake and cheese (he says splitting opinions in Yorkshire and looking plain weird to the rest of the world) are right up my alley and possibly all down my shirt. A drop of gluhwein, or a small glass of port are also not unheard of.
There are actually a lot of Xmas traditions that I love. Being a glutton for gluttony, mince pies, stollen, Christmas pudding, Christmas cake and cheese (he says splitting opinions in Yorkshire and looking plain weird to the rest of the world) are right up my alley and possibly all down my shirt. A drop of gluhwein, or a small glass of port are also not unheard of.
Presents are something I’ll never say no to either, and the look on someone’s face when you’ve got your buying right is also something I treasure. I like a cracker, a paper hat that tears as soon as you look at it, and I wouldn’t even say no to an Xmas jumper (Star Wars themed for preference). This year I might even rock a glitter beard for the day itself.
In Good Trim
What I’m not really on board with is the need to spend fortunes on trimming up the house like Santa’s grotto for a few weeks before and after the big day. This reservation has caused a small amount of friction between myself and Tina, my wife.
The tree went up this week. If Tina had got her way it would have been up sooner. Possibly a few weeks sooner. The twelve days of Christmas might have been extended to the three months of Christmas, at which point even the most inventive of true loves would have run out of gift ideas. We would also have a heck of a lot more (completely unnecessary) tinsel and lights about the place.
Apart from that, well, as regular readers of this esteemed blog (you poor things) will know I’m not one for religion so, although I will get dragged to church at some point over the next couple of weeks (kicking and screaming optional), probably to a carol concert, the rest well, it’s rather lost on me.
The Reason for the Season
It’s not really as if a modern Christmas has much to do with religion anyway. Before anyone gets too offended what I mean by that is that the accoutrements that we class as traditional have no real connection to any religious celebration, at least not that I’m aware of.
Going by the information in the bible any historical Jesus would have been extremely unlikely to have been born on the 25th of December (there is an argument that the timing is appropriated from earlier pagan midwinter festivals such as Saturnalia and Yule. A historical Jesus is more likely to have been born in September). Even if he was, the amount of Douglas Fir trees he would have seen in his life could probably be counted on the fingers of no hands. Crackers, turkey, tinsel, fairy lights, cards featuring snow drenched Victorian townscapes, it’s all later additions that have become, well, traditional. Additionally traditional if you will.
Yipee-Ki-Yay
That is not to say that the upcoming day of celebration is without merit. If nothing else, it is a time for friends and family to get together. It’s a time for generosity and companionship, of forgetting about your worries for perhaps just one day and letting the dulcet tones of Shane MacGowan and Kirsty MacColl break through the overeating and over drinking as you prepare for the Doctor Who Xmas special and try one last time to convince your wife that Die Hard really is a Christmas film (it is).
More than anything though, this Christmas in particular will be about putting a horrendously life changing year behind us and preparing for a bigger and better 2018, one in which we put MS, Neurological Strokes, and the rest of the horrors of the last two years, firmly in the rear view mirror.
I intend to celebrate Xmas well. So, humbug to humbug. Come on Christmas, lets have you!
Until next time...
In Good Trim
What I’m not really on board with is the need to spend fortunes on trimming up the house like Santa’s grotto for a few weeks before and after the big day. This reservation has caused a small amount of friction between myself and Tina, my wife.
The tree went up this week. If Tina had got her way it would have been up sooner. Possibly a few weeks sooner. The twelve days of Christmas might have been extended to the three months of Christmas, at which point even the most inventive of true loves would have run out of gift ideas. We would also have a heck of a lot more (completely unnecessary) tinsel and lights about the place.
Apart from that, well, as regular readers of this esteemed blog (you poor things) will know I’m not one for religion so, although I will get dragged to church at some point over the next couple of weeks (kicking and screaming optional), probably to a carol concert, the rest well, it’s rather lost on me.
The Reason for the Season
It’s not really as if a modern Christmas has much to do with religion anyway. Before anyone gets too offended what I mean by that is that the accoutrements that we class as traditional have no real connection to any religious celebration, at least not that I’m aware of.
Going by the information in the bible any historical Jesus would have been extremely unlikely to have been born on the 25th of December (there is an argument that the timing is appropriated from earlier pagan midwinter festivals such as Saturnalia and Yule. A historical Jesus is more likely to have been born in September). Even if he was, the amount of Douglas Fir trees he would have seen in his life could probably be counted on the fingers of no hands. Crackers, turkey, tinsel, fairy lights, cards featuring snow drenched Victorian townscapes, it’s all later additions that have become, well, traditional. Additionally traditional if you will.
Yipee-Ki-Yay
That is not to say that the upcoming day of celebration is without merit. If nothing else, it is a time for friends and family to get together. It’s a time for generosity and companionship, of forgetting about your worries for perhaps just one day and letting the dulcet tones of Shane MacGowan and Kirsty MacColl break through the overeating and over drinking as you prepare for the Doctor Who Xmas special and try one last time to convince your wife that Die Hard really is a Christmas film (it is).
More than anything though, this Christmas in particular will be about putting a horrendously life changing year behind us and preparing for a bigger and better 2018, one in which we put MS, Neurological Strokes, and the rest of the horrors of the last two years, firmly in the rear view mirror.
I intend to celebrate Xmas well. So, humbug to humbug. Come on Christmas, lets have you!
Until next time...
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