Don’t forget. It’s

No matter. We’re addicted to Christmas. I actually know of women who devise ways of making it more complicated and stressful. But they love it. So, chacun a son gout as they say. However, I must say that envy never rose in my throat at the sight of someone’s sideboard heaving with homemade food. Although I like a bit of vulgar display on special occasions I find that the ready-made goodies sold at the better lifestyle stores are enticing enough for me. But then, I am also lucky to have a family where the women do a substantial amount of baking and they are generous with me. ***

I recall Christmases in Mauritius where December was hot , sticky and the start of the cyclone season. The turkeys at Prisunic supermarket were flown in from France and after so much effort so many Christmas lunches were spoilt by a cyclone – which meant no electricity for days. So we ate tinned tuna instead.

Addis Ababa, in Ethiopia wasn’t much better when it comes to food. Some had prawns and oysters flown in especially. I felt that this extravagance was almost a cardinal sin since we were surrounded by so much poverty.

Life was easier for those of us who spoke some Italian. How often have I managed to get more than the stipulated ration of say, Nile perch – there was no other fish to be had - by speaking to the salesperson in Italian and handing over my earrings. ***

But back to now. I rather like that fullup, bloated, oh-well-I might-managejust-one-more marron glacé festive feeling, caution and waistline, thrown to the winds, even more so than they are the rest of the year.

I love Roald Dahl’s poem The Tummy Beast: “There is a person in my tummy! “He talks to me at night in bed, “He’s always asking to be fed, “Throughout the day, he screams at me, “Demanding sugar buns for tea. “He tells me it is not a sin “To go and raid the biscuit tin. “I know quite well it’s awfully wrong “To guzzle food the whole day long, “But really I can’t help it, mummy, “Not with this person in my tummy.” I seem to have two persons in my tummy. ***

I hope you didn’t let Christmas preparations become a chore. You don’t want to just get through Christmas. You want to celebrate and enjoy it, to spend as much time as possible with family playing silly games and charades and to submit to normally forbidden food and drink. ***

Trouble is, most of us have saddled ourselves with a rosy image of the festivities that bears no relation to the life we actually lead.

Be honest. You envisage one of those Victorian family Christmas cards with a huge glistening tree, a glowing open fire and father, mother and children happily unwrapping wooden trains and goldenhaired dolls while maids in black and white starched aprons and frilly caps saunter in and out with trays of food and drink.

It’s also Charles Dickens we have to blame for this image we insist on keeping in our mind’s eye and which we try to emulate – apart from the maids. ***

We cannot ignore the fact that the average Victorian mother didn’t go out to work and often had frazzled domestic help or two in her Yuletide kitchen. She had servants who cleaned the house, peeled the potatoes, cooked the lunch and better still, cleaned up afterwards. True, dishwashers have made life easier, but they merely wash dishes. The cleaning up still has to be done by humans, often while the two-year-old is busy covering herself with flour.

And after lunch there’s all that Christmas wrapping, cracker mottos and paper hats lying sodden on the floor to be disposed of. Not to mention all those carpets to hoover. ***

In the days of Queen Victoria with so much domestic help available mother could spend days and days searching for suitable little presents for the family because they didn’t expect computers, mobile phones or play stations. There was much less to buy and people enjoyed whatever they were given. They were not spoilt for choice as we all are today, our homes choking with dust-gathering objects we barely have time to look at. ***

Of course we love doing things for family and friends. Few are those who don’t but it makes sense to keep it as simple as possible and cut corners.

And surely there is no need to stock up on food as if the Great Siege was about to hit us again. It only encourages us all to