T'is the season to be jolly...

I have been seeing Christmas decorations in shops and pubs and restaurants and every other speakable place for at least the past month. But last weekend, I heard my first Christmas song played over the music system in a shop. My first reaction was, ugh...they bring all this stuff out earlier and earlier every year. Then i realised...in actual fact, it's not THAT far away till Jesus' 2006th birthday.

This year, Christmas has definitely creeped up on me. What happened to the festive cheer that would excite my senses several months prematurely?
I remember at primary school, there would be a week when everyone was allowed to bring in your own tinsel, paperchains, baubles and any manner of shiny things to decorate the classroom and it would stay like that until January. Although I'm sure it made teaching very difficult, peering over the 2ft Christmas tree balanced between our exercise books, the teachers more than tolerated it. I'm pretty sure they got as much of a kick out of it as we did.
I remember the big cardboard postbox stationed in the assembly hall where you could post Christmas cards to your friends and receive them the next day. The number of cards you had lined up on your desk soon became a popularity contest as well as a never-ending struggle not to be distracted from your long division by the pretty glitter and heart-glowingly sincere rhymes inside.

As I progressed to secondary school, Christmas became all about worrying which of my friends to buy Christmas presents for. On my meagre allowance, I couldn't afford to get everyone a diamond encrusted, solid 24carat gift and with varying degrees of friendship, it was a balancing act of not offending people and not killing the bank account. Christmas was now all about impressing people with what was under that Winnie the Pooh wrapping paper. Whilst everyone got pretty little trinkets and windchimes and the like, it didn't really mean anything. These gifts were given for the sake of Christmas rather than to welcome in the festive season.

These days you always hear rants that Christmas has become a commercialised money-making opportunity. When you see the number of new toys and very useful electrical appliances that suddenly spring up at the appropriate season, you may be excused for thinking that. For me, Christmas isn't about the presents. I wouldn't be distraught if Santa didn't leave me that dress I saw in the catalogue in my size and my colour. To me, Christmas is about the dining room table groaning under the weight of far too much food that still manages to be polished off by the end of the night, the sound of pulling crackers and bad jokes, chestnuts roasting on an open fire, and all that jazz.

I guess I answered my own question. My festive cheer is hidden in my childhood where all I really needed was a bits of shiny paper, the warm fuzzy feeling inside from family dinners or maybe a bit too much winter warmer, and all-nighter games of monopoly with my cousins. So, hold on to your Santa hats, holidays are comin'...