So I am as a parasite. An invasion, like a swarm of unwanted ants making an expedition towards the soft white of a Bakewell, the vulgar red of a glace cherry.
I have had many insults in my life but I am pleased to say that Tele’s way of reducing me to an alien in her Universe is quite complimentary. I am indeed a pest. Ask anyone who truly knows and they can confirm this, and more fool Tele for allowing me to spread my crazy musings upon her pages.
Ha ha ha ha ha, it’s too late now, for I am here.
So… what have I to say? Surely on a night like this I should be filled with excitement for it is Christmas Eve. The timing is now so near to the great day. Christmas is upon us again. How did this happen? Is it just me or does everyone else feel it was Summer yesterday? Why does time pass so quickly? Can it be stopped? The way I see it is, yes it can be stopped, only one way and only one at a time.
The ritual of Christmas is already in full swing. The television is showing a range of viewer friendly films. So many Disney, so many war. Not real war films with decapitation and blood. No 15 or 18 certificate, more The Great Escape or The Dam Busters. Two iconic films. As you read those names I bet you could hear those famous tunes in your head. All of television is bombarded with adverts for items that cannot be missed this Christmas, the latest gadgets and games, available from all the usual mass-national outlets. All week it’s been adverts for perfumes and alcohol. The same adverts year after year, except for Toys R Us. Where is Geoffrey and what has happened to the jingle music? Toys R Us should be ashamed of themselves.
Boxing day the screens will be filled with ads for holidays and of course sales. Some truly insane people will queue outside the huge department stores in central London for a bargain… fools.
Not me. In the warm watching The Great Escape, that’s for me. My Christmas is going to be spent with family and my Boxing Day will be too. That’s if Boxing Day is the day after Christmas this year. I’ll be sat eating snacks and having a giggle. Maybe I’ll have a few new things to keep me occupied, maybe not. I don’t care at all. All I want is to have gotten my present buying right and get a genuine thank you for gifts. That is all, no more. But to make matters a little more exciting the family plays games and this year is going to be awesome. Qi the board game is to be played Boxing Day. You gotta love Qi, it’s such a great way to boost your intelligence and have a giggle.
So much food in the cupboards and my Mum trying to get me to eat it. She always says ‘I bought it for you’ and I have to yum it down, but I don’t mind, it’s always the best food. Tonight (Christmas Eve) we’re having Lobster. Doesn’t that just sound sensational. Christmas day is going to be the old reliable Turkey with some trimmings and a proper Christmas puddding. Boxing Day is Lamb; I can hardly wait.
Of course there will, at some point, be mention of alcohol. First I’ll be offered wine and then spirit and finally a beer. Try as they might (and they will try) they’ll aim to persuade me have a drink. It’s not I don’t like a drink, in fact in the past I have liked the drink very much, but with the painkillers one beer is all it takes to be nodding off in a corner, and that’s no fun. I want to be awake… not like now. Now I want to be asleep. I so do want to be in bed but I can’t sleep at night or in the day successfully. It’s a pained, uncomfortable nightmare.
No snow this year. Good news all round. Driving in the snow is not fun and a warm clear air will be just what is needed. Snow does make the world look like a Christmas card but it’s also a pain.
It’s difficult to be able to see everybody, almost impossible and many alterations have to be made to plans. Every grandparent and parent. Friends and family all want to be seen, to be remembered, even the dead don’t stay quiet. They talk to us and we talk back. Crazy? Possibly. Most years I leave a message for my Granddad and have a chat with him and this year was the same except for the first time ever I visited the grave with Dad. Once that’s over I always feel fulfilled, happy.
Everyone got a photocopy of my poem, Mum and Dad could not wait to show my Nan. I think they were proud of me, this is an unusual sensation, maybe if I keep writing, one day I’ll be proud of me.
With the kettle on, Caffetiere ready with the Caffeine injection I’m sat writing this blog and thinking what nonsense to write next.
Outside there is a flickering of hundreds of little bulbs, pinned to gutters and window frames. The dark nights of December sparkling. The rain has stopped and there is calm, soon I shall head for my bed.
We are ready. Cards are written, presents wrapped, cupboards stacked full of treats, Christmas TV Quick on the sofa, bottle of wine being chilled, cheese strings and triangles and sausage rolls
Santa is making his last preparations, his elves loading the sleigh ready for a huge delivery. And as he does I sit by the gas fire and watch the dog have a fit, thinking about TMA02 and the miracle needed to finish or even properly start. Christmas is a time for miracles, so maybe I have hope yet. So much coursework to do but I’m taking at least a two day break, after that I’ll be in panic overload. Now it is Christmas Eve and I’m going to have a slice of cake.