Festivities and ‘Real Life’

May I begin with a clear statement on my feelings about Christmas – I’m neutral. I’m not exactly a fan nor am I resolutely ‘bah humbug’.
I am happy to let Christians celebrate the birth of their saviour, although I’d be happier if some weren’t so angsty about others not really caring over much, and I really do approve of the celebration of new hope rising out of the darkest parts of the year. I’m anti 2 months of frantic commercialism, against sending christmas cards (a horrible waste of paper) and really, vehemently not keen on glaring lights and christmas pop music but on the other hand I am pro holly, roast dinners and showing people that you care about them. I am also pro stockings, mince pies and mulled mead. I think alot of these things don’t require ‘christmas’ as it currently advertised and thus I remain..neutral. May this Yuletide bring you all that you want from it

However, I have now finished working at providing beverages for terminally thirsty tinsel-drinkers who unpracticed over the year have no concepts of their own limits and even less idea of decorum. Instead I have retreated for a week of family observances. Separated from my beloveds and the bustle of the town I am somewhere between relieved and feeling oddly distant. Instead of being up-to-date with the news, surrounded by people who will be either working the festive period or have the minimum of time off and caught in a whirl of cleaning and organising, I am wrapped in a bubble of nothing-to-do and caught slightly offbeat by the notion.
My family is comfortingly traditional and the routines are easy to slip into especially since my step-mother likes things to be run in a certain way so tends to suggest that we keep out of the way rather than try to be helpful. Vegetables need to be chopped but otherwise food appears without my intervention, the house is tidy and decorated and I am not expected to do the washing-up or laundry; instead there is holly and ivy and a fire and stockings and quiet laughter.

Spending time with the family is an odd kind of exile; we get on quite well really as a group of adults enough in common to have conversation and capable of arguing without falling out – both of which things I count my blessings for when I contrast other people’s families especially W’s. On the other hand I hate the fact that W & B can’t be here with me. I know W particularly would love the whole christmas ritual and B would at least be pleased not to be working. I worry about the pair of them and various of our mutual friends at this time of year when I know that loneliness can set in because of the weight of expectations and I hate not being around to look after people.
Look after yourselves for me, another day another chance. Good Luck

 

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