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Tis the season to be jolly tra la la la la la la.....
Yes Christmas has come around once again and on Sunday afternoon I ventured into the garage to retrieve the step-ladder, then two minutes later my head was peering into the cold void that is our loft.
The dear wife was at hand so I could pass down to her the various boxes that hold all our Christmas treasures; while the children enthusiastically offered to pull everything out of the packages before we even had a chance to take them down stairs to the lounge.
We have fallen into a routine over the years since the first Christmas together in our first home, and that is the good lady prepares the tree, while I'm out side putting up the ickle lights. There's no point in getting older without getting wiser. Now before I spend an hour outside in the freezing cold delicately places the lights around the guttering, only to find some don't work when I switch them on, I check them inside first. I do find it amazing that every year you put the lights back in their box in full working order, then store them safely without touching them, only to find that a third of them won't work as soon as you get them out a year later. Why is that? Are there fairies living in Mark Kings loft having a frenzy of a time while partying with my ickle lights? It makes you think!
The children were great at pulling things out of boxes when asked not too, but after an hour their enthusiasm had waned. They were more interested in eating the chocolates bought especially to hang on the tree. We held out nerve to their pleas for relief from starvation, and all they got to eat were apples. The dear wife was flagging as well because she painted the town red with her friends the night before, and although she had a lay in until mid-day she would have been more than happy to have stayed in bed all day.
Once my lighting duties were finished I headed to the kitchen and started on the Sunday roast. I gave my usual cooking drink of English cider a miss and enjoyed a bottle of Australian red wine instead, and by five o clock the decorations were up, our late lunch ready, and everyone sat around the table ready to tuck in.
I'm so glad we can enjoy such an event as Christmas during the long, dark, cold, and wet British winter. Although the true meaning for most people in our consumerist society has been lost in a splurge of debt induced spending. For me watching my children's school nativity plays which were held in the parish church, and were packed to the rafters with happy, smiling, and for forty minutes at least, united people in peaceful surroundings sums up the true meaning of Christmas.