Ahhh isn’t it pretty? Doesn’t it make you feel festive? Isn’t it lovely walking around in it? Doesn’t it fuck up your plans if your relatives are 75 miles away and they get 8 inches of snow in 2 hours? Yes I’m talking about the snow, and yes New York and Canada will probably be laughing their heads off at our inability to deal with the snowfall parts of England have experienced. But here where the only snow plough I've seen is in the Simpsons Christmas episode, pretty much everything is screwed and that includes my family coming up to see me this weekend.
I thought long and hard about whether to write this blog and let everyone inclined to read it know that snow officially sucks and this weekend has been a massive LOSER. And frankly no, I don’t care that I’m nearly 34 and the true meaning of Christmas isn’t supposed to be about getting gifts. This is looking like it will be the first year there are no family presents for me. Ho Hodiliy fuckin’ Ho.
In my more paranoid moments, I’ve thought the ‘snow blizzard’ was an elaborate hoax made up to cover the fact that mine kith and kin can’t be arsed to leave their sofas. Particularly as when I look out the window I see this:
Oh yeah TONS of snow there eh?
I can see them all now, Vintage Port in hands, passing round the chocolates and my sister saying to Dad ‘ it’s been about an hour now, time for someone to call her and talk about how hard we are trying to get there. Maybe elaborate with some story about a lorry sliding down the road or a car crash. But make it quick cos we’re all about to watch ‘It’s a Wonderful Life’. When I feel like this I wonder if the weather problems were just a rouse, though how they got the news to report fake travel issues and Heathrow to cancel all their flights so that it seems more realistic I don’t know, maybe my dad has more pull then I originally thought.
Somewhat cheered by hearing Jo Wiley’s kid’s birthday was ruined as no one turned up to their party either, I decided that the weather will not squash my Christmas spirit. I want my family to see my house’s first Christmas and God Damn It they will! (as long as they read this that is). So anyone not into Christmas may want to turn away now lest they become infected with Sarchristmasosis (symptoms include vomiting tinsel, spontaneous bursts of carolling, a tinnitus style constant jingling sound and laughing as you go). Behold…
My Outdoor Wreath
And the Banister garland (avec angel!)
Here’s my tree with every bauble on it that I own.
And the inside wreath, (oh yes, I double wreath!)
Next there's the Kitchen Christmas lights: NB the out of focus-ness is due to my artistry. Any rumours advising it was due to a massive sulk, being drunk or not being able to use a camera are completely without merit.
This is the massive bauble which was ‘liberated’ from its tree in Moor Park at a friends wedding. It’s much happier here, it told me.
Here’s the spare bed, note the bows made from scratch and by my own fair hands
And finally the empty bottle of Trinity College Port and the wrappers from the Lindt chocolate box that I was going to share but instead was demolished by the man and me (oh, and me in the background writing this).
My House all Christmased - Ta daaaaa!
Seeing as this has been a completely self serving whinge I thought I’d end it by putting my moaning into perspective. Fact of the matter is we all know there are people in this world that have no family members to visit them at Christmas or any other time. Worse still, some have
families and homes that are dangerous to be in and while people like me bitch about their situations, others do what they can to help those in need. So here’s some links to a few worthy charities. If you’re feeling generous (or guilty about complaining like I am now), maybe send a little cash their way and have a Merry Christmas.