It's that time of the year again...
... when you pray for white flakes to fall upon your hair and shoulders while walking beneath the fanciful lights and decorations that mark the season. The flakes will melt and turn into crystal clear water at the slightest touch, reminding you of a distant memory from a long-ago holiday taken in a distant locale where snow is a reality.
... when you decide to set your slate clean and right the wrongs of the past. You seek out old enemies, forgotten friends, neglected relatives and past flames. You dial their number, you knock on their doors, and the outcome is tears of joy and relieve, gentle pats on the backs, tight forgiving hugs, great big smiles and a heart that is on the path of healing.
... when you dust off the box (ready to brave the choking, sneezing, coughing, tears streaming that accompanies the dusting) and put up the old and synthetically manufactured cone-shaped tree that is dulled with age. You also dust off boxes of faded trinkets and baubles, an assortment of ornaments that were once bright and new. You (and maybe your family) decorates the tree and string up the lights and finally, the piece de resistance, a dirtied faded once-white angel, crowns the tree. Then you whip out your phone, snap a picture and post to Instagram, humble-bragging that your tree is four years old and added the hash tag #nofilter for good measure.
... when you write all the names of the people in your life; your family at the top, then your closest friends and finish off with your colleagues and your neighbours. At the end, you decided that there are too many, and you start crossing out names that aren't that important to you, aren't that close, and aren't that familiar. Finally you have a cleaned-up list of twenty names, and you feel a headache coming.
... when you sit down at your kitchen table, looked at what you have, decided that you have nothing at all and started flipping through catalogues filled with glossy pictures of golden brown turkeys, glossy baked hams, succulent cuts of meat and moist-looking fruit cakes (you can almost smell the brandy/rum). It's for inspiration, you assure yourself. Then you take out your recipe books and start riffling through them, stopping occasionally to read recipes that you think you can attempt. After a while, you sigh, your shoulders slumped. Your sleeping toddler awakens and starts screaming. You sigh louder, while picking up your phone and the catalogues and mentally deciding when they should make the delivery in time for the dinner party.
... when you walk into the shop (blasting some very merry tunes) to get one body moisturiser because the one you have at home is running out but leave with bags of holiday gift sets that you decided (on the spur) to give to those nameless faceless colleagues that you don't see everyday at work.
... when I am listening to the "Christmas Song" (my favourite song for the season) while...
Merry Christmas y'all!
... when you decide to set your slate clean and right the wrongs of the past. You seek out old enemies, forgotten friends, neglected relatives and past flames. You dial their number, you knock on their doors, and the outcome is tears of joy and relieve, gentle pats on the backs, tight forgiving hugs, great big smiles and a heart that is on the path of healing.
... when you dust off the box (ready to brave the choking, sneezing, coughing, tears streaming that accompanies the dusting) and put up the old and synthetically manufactured cone-shaped tree that is dulled with age. You also dust off boxes of faded trinkets and baubles, an assortment of ornaments that were once bright and new. You (and maybe your family) decorates the tree and string up the lights and finally, the piece de resistance, a dirtied faded once-white angel, crowns the tree. Then you whip out your phone, snap a picture and post to Instagram, humble-bragging that your tree is four years old and added the hash tag #nofilter for good measure.
... when you write all the names of the people in your life; your family at the top, then your closest friends and finish off with your colleagues and your neighbours. At the end, you decided that there are too many, and you start crossing out names that aren't that important to you, aren't that close, and aren't that familiar. Finally you have a cleaned-up list of twenty names, and you feel a headache coming.
... when you sit down at your kitchen table, looked at what you have, decided that you have nothing at all and started flipping through catalogues filled with glossy pictures of golden brown turkeys, glossy baked hams, succulent cuts of meat and moist-looking fruit cakes (you can almost smell the brandy/rum). It's for inspiration, you assure yourself. Then you take out your recipe books and start riffling through them, stopping occasionally to read recipes that you think you can attempt. After a while, you sigh, your shoulders slumped. Your sleeping toddler awakens and starts screaming. You sigh louder, while picking up your phone and the catalogues and mentally deciding when they should make the delivery in time for the dinner party.
... when you walk into the shop (blasting some very merry tunes) to get one body moisturiser because the one you have at home is running out but leave with bags of holiday gift sets that you decided (on the spur) to give to those nameless faceless colleagues that you don't see everyday at work.
... when I am listening to the "Christmas Song" (my favourite song for the season) while...
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| Picture created by Uface (iOS app). Words added using Photoshop. |
Merry Christmas y'all!
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