This evening I embark on making cards: an attempt to instill some Christmas cheer. I must have missed out on the festive gene, hatred is perhaps too strong a word but one that springs to mind when the so called Silly Season rolls around.
Christmas as a parent is different. Whilst BB is still to little to understand it has me thinking about the future, and how to turn this plastic-fantastic month of spending into one containing humble values and traditions.
I asked PB if we should get a tree but he said no, let's wait until she's older. We'll spend Christmas with my parents and bask in the glory of their tree for now – a superb coruscating mess, as it has always been. One year my dad adorned the tree with bulbs of grapes that were programmed to flash to different tinny carols. Perhaps this has cemented my belief that when decorating a Christmas tree the crapper the better. Clearly the same approach I am taking with my cards.
PS. I must admit have a strong appreciation for people that go all out. (Hi Alenka!) I actually think it's pretty rad, just not for me.