It’s a weird time of year.
Everyone seems to be in a bit of a panic. The strange thing is that most don’t seem to be sure what they are panicking about. They are rushing around like Alice’s White Rabbit muttering to themselves “I’m not ready, I’m not ready”.
I blame television. We are inundated with advertisements all telling us about this “perfect day” whatever that is. Apparently to achieve this perfection we all have to buy new mobile phones, furniture and disgusting looking burgers, not to mention perfume, mouse traps and other tat. They show pictures of tables laden down with enough food to feed an army, always with the ubiquitous turkey and ham.
I like neither turkey nor ham. In fact most people I meet are agreed that turkey is not their favourite choice of fowl yet they all rush off and buy one. Apparently it’s traditional to eat something you dislike for several days to make your life perfect?
The worst thing about these advertisements is the inherent frenzy. Everything suddenly has to be bought before Christmas. The problem is that people get caught up in this frenzy and rush around with the feeling that they have to be buying something but they’re not sure what. Then there is the perennial question “Are you ready for Christmas”? Ready? I’m as ready as I am for every other day. My stock of edibles is at its usual level. In the unlikely event of running out of something on just one particular day is unlikely and anyway I can always find a shop that’s open.
I’m no Scrooge. I am in the mood for celebration as much as anyone. What I usually fail to mention is that my celebrations tend to revolve more around the Winter Solstice than Christmas. Granny is talking about inviting the neighbours to join us dancing naked around the lake tomorrow night. [I must adjust her medications again.]
It is indeed a glorious time of year.
But I’m taking it calmly.