Dec. 24th, 2022

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Aye up, gang. It's Christmas.

Which has rather snuck up on me this year. I mean, I understand calendars. I knew it was December. I had a shopping trip planned with a friend. Various pre-Christmas things were organised.

Then the niggling-kinda-cold I had turned out (on Dec 12th) to be Covid. I wasn't especially ill - nasty cough, but otherwise nothing really worth mentioning - but felt that I ought to confine myself to barracks until I tested negative again. And I cancelled my shopping trip and a bunch of other plans, and I missed my work Christmas party. And it sort of took out a week or so and now here we are.

The harbingers of Christmas have had to shuffle into line pretty quickly. However, we've made it up to my parents' house, there are some presents, they're wrapped, Dad and I have had a couple of pints, and we've got the fire in. The tree is decorated (although admittedly one of the things it is decorated with is a banana, because my Dad handed me it while I was reaching for a bauble, apparently in the mistaken belief I would somehow crack and put it back in the fruitbowl. Honestly, it's like he's never met me). I've made up the pigs in blankets, and we've listened to some carols, and even managed to scrounge some offcuts of holly from the garden centre on the way into town.

We watched The Boy, The Mole, The Horse and The Fox on the BBC, and it was just delightful. Messages are bouncing back and forth on various WhatsApp groups (one of which has just deployed the phrase "roastness per unit potato"). I've read up to the Christmas Eve section of The Dark is Rising (I haven't yet tried out the BBC radio drama, but BeckyA tells me it's good).

Everything feels, on the surface, like it's back to normal.

It kind of is. For me.

I'm also very aware that for a disproportionate number of my family and friends, recent months have sucked in a horrible variety of ways. Bad news has been rolling in with alarming frequency, mostly where there is very little I can do to help. My nice, cosy Christmas feels a bit too much like bragging.

But for those of you who find tradition comforting: we're still here, and we're still doing it. I hope you're doing things that make you happy. Stay warm, stay safe, be merry.

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