on the umph...day of christmas my true love said to me
There are twelve months in a year, after eleven relatively quiet ones we enter the dark month of December. And December always turns into a Very Busy month. Without wanting to, one feels overcome by an overwhelming sense of – let’s be completely truthful here - panic……Christmas Panic. I'm not kidding, let me list a few of the things we have to deal with that spring immediately to mind: Christmas shopping, Christmas presents, Christmas pudding, Christmas hangover(s), Christmas hors d'oeuvres, Christmas leftovers, Christmas outfit(s)(can I get away with wearing the same outfit several times, given that I move in different circles so the likelihood of the same people being at the same venue is infinitesimally small, hence one person noticing I’m indeed wearing same outfit twice is highly unlikely, then again, who actually cares?)*, Christmas guests, Christmas dinners, Christmas parties, Christmas office-do, Christmas decorations, Christmas to-tree-or-not-to-tree, honestly it’s not as if I haven’t been here before, as if I don’t know Christmas is coming and yet each and every year I feel trampled upon by it all; it’s almost as if the season of bewildered merriment and jolly red-nosed stress is ‘suddenly’ upon us.** Shorter days do not help either!
|I suggested they could start by tidying and cleaning the kitchen whilst I'm in the office the next couple of days, so far no one has volunteered|
This year is no different. To add to my general bafflement, the gang has gathered and declared they too want to celebrate Christmas ‘all together’ in a manner befitting Christmas, hallelujah! This doesn’t necessarily mean I am invited. Which is of course fine and dandy and I wouldn’t have minded or been particularly upset, however, they have asked me for advice – read ‘organise the festivities, and, worst case scenario, maybe even prepare food’ – in short ‘do my bit’, which is why I am becoming more and more tense, f******short tempered and find myself unable to focus
on one thing. It involves loads of planning, never very high on my skill-list, starting with what is
every being going to eat? There are seed eaters, carnivores, omnivores, vegetarians, worm-
and insect devotees (which is rather difficult for the moths, beetles and
butterflies to come to terms with, if you're not careful you might end up on a dinner plate) pollen-nibblers, honey-suckers and so forth. (who’s
taking notes? Anyone? Nobody! I am, of
Where are they all going to sit? Some don’t sit but prefer to remain perched on a branch, or are hanging on a puppet frame, others are so small they’ld be best served sitting on the table rather than at it. Then there is the question of cutlery and a suitable dinner service: are there enough plates and what sizes do we have, how many knives, forks, sticks, spoons, glasses, cups & saucers……who will be seated next to whom? Drinks anybody, don't mind if you do, no silly not now, I mean for Christmas, oh. Are dinner invitations forthcoming, if yes, who’ll be making them, if no, okay, however will we be sending Christmas cards? And again, who will make those? And who will deliver them, the list seems endless (and for what? I mumble, but nobody’s listening)
argh..............I will keep you posted.........
What I am looking forward to is making a long-Christmas-theme-table-cloth for them, hey ho
This will also give me a valid excuse to retreat from time to time, with a sewing basket at my side, a threaded needle in one hand and a dainty cloth in the other, whilst sitting on the settee in front of the wood burner, luxuriating in my solitude!
* the fact that these kinds of thoughts cross my mind is an indication of the level of despair I’ve reached, hihi=nervous giggle
** do men experience this kind of stress about these kinds of things, no you don’t have to answer, as the evidence ‘round here would suggest: NO, they do not and what’s more, never will do. Good for them.