The Courier & Advertiser (Angus and Dundee)
STUFF CUTBACKS – TIS THE SEASON TO GIVE ME HUGS
Wintertime is no longer celebrated and embraced in the same way it once was. In times long gone, it was a time of rest. Of comfort. Of going home. Of allowing ourselves to process all that has happened throughout the past year. Allowing ourselves to prepare for and accept the year is coming to a close.
It’s a necessary time of hibernation to allow for tired limbs and burdened minds to recover.
Yet it’s only November. I already feel anxious. It’s suddenly freezing, it’s dark all the time, I have 18 different deadlines (merely a slight exaggeration) due within two weeks.
Everyone is panicking about the rising cost of living and what it means for Christmas. Himself has told me we really need to start saving money. I’ve informed him for that to happen he’ll need to marry someone else.
Naturally I am facing this head on. I’m instigating maximum avoidance. I’m running away from consumerism, brightly lit adverts, frantic shopping and overspending. I am, instead, running towards comfort food, box sets and blankets. My natural desire to go inwards is strong and the recent downpours leave me feeling this winter is going to be hard.
I worry for those without a big, welcoming family with a roaring, blazing fire.
Winter should be kind. In a soft enveloping way. Where we can quietly look towards our inner selves and reflect on everything that has passed in 2022.
A period of forgiveness for things that have gone wrong and gratitude for things that have gone right.
As I get older, I really just want to be surrounded by good people. People that are good for me, good to me and good for my soul.
I welcome weekends not leading to big moments. Quiet weekends with room to contemplate, with space to grow and with joy to be found in the mundane.
I’m reminded of primary school. When you spent December covered in glitter.
Choosing who got to go round classrooms delivering Christmas cards. Tinselclad classroom assistants watching over assemblies full of charmingly off-key carols.
And the Christmas disco! Teachers in party wear – who knew Ms Milne had a thing for sequins?! Those were the days! Let’s reinvent that feeling now, as adults.
Although different things occur to me now, things like carbon footprints and fuel costs. Should we really have Santa travelling all round the world delivering presents? Should we start a “go fund me” for his fuel? Should we be collectively naughty and save him the trip?
The mister and I went to our storage unit to retrieve the first of the decorations. We have to decorate the cafe and we’re grateful to have a whole host of willing helpers to assist with decking the proverbial halls.
We might not have boughs of holly but we will belt out FA LA LA LA LAAAAAAAAAAAS with gusto. The younger helpers don’t know how good they have it with modern day lyrics sites. We merrily sang everything wrong for years until the truth destroyed us.
But we’ll carry on, correct or not. Wearing Christmas jumpers or sparkly outfits and once the fairy lights are hung and baubles are placed, the festive cheer will be released.
I’ll ask himself to take me on a festive date.
A “let’s grab the mince pies and hot chocolate and drive round looking at everyone’s pretty Christmas lights” kind of date.
I’ll wear sequins, play Bublé and Maria too loudly and decorate the car with battery-powered sparkly lights. The mister will declare these unwise and try to remove them but I’ll object. I’ll announce the start of “cuddling season”, allowing all those secretly in love with me to come forward and let me know.
I’ve an abundance of soft, cuddly jumpers and an impressive, if lopsided, bosom. I am ready to let the hugging commence.
You can keep your 202021 social distancing, I am so ready for Christmas 2022.