I am happy to report, that in this part of NE Hampshire at least, Christmas is over.
Yesterday I posted my cards. This is the only concession I make towards recognising that the festival exists at all. My Christmas cards consist of several bought from a suitable right-on charity for my elderly relatives, and several dozen truly cheap and tasteless home produced monstrosities that go to dear and loved friends all over the world – Hawaii, Australia, Texas and even Belgium.
I gauge the success of the card by the number of litres of vomit produced by the lovely Mrs S. when she first sees them.
I can now safely bolt the door, and semi-hibernate for a couple of weeks. I will try very hard to avoid conversations about the season, resist the urge to smack anyone who says “… and all the trimmings”, resist even harder the urge to watch anything on TV that contains the sub-title “Christmas special”, and begin the long and anxious period of praying for inspiration for the design of next year’s festive card.