Tis the season to be jolly

Now you know how much I love Christmas. It’s legendary. The staff are well used to me singing Christmas songs in July. I’m organised, presents bought and wrapped in good time, menu’s planned out. I love it all.

So, what about this year? Four weeks post operative, not able to shop for the perfect gifts, relying on others to do everything I would normally have done. Munki is away with her northern family so it was all a bit…odd.

In fact it’s been a funny old Christmas all round at Boofuls Towers.

Like an Alan Bennett play but without the comedic highlights.

Christmas Eve was lovely. A friend popped round and was still there eight hours later. The wine flowed, Lashes and I sang for her, the dog danced for her, we ate, drank and made merry. Perfect.

Roll the clock forward a few hours. If this was an advert at this point all the lovely, vibrant colours would fade to a cold and gloomy grey.

The turkey that didn’t get put into the oven the night before needed cooking, the veg need ed preparing and all the other traditionally Christmas Eve jobs still needed doing.

We were due at a friend’s house for champagne and croissants at ten o’clock. Lashes and her boyfriend were not up for it. Being, as they say down here, hanging, the thought of socialising at that time of day didn’t appeal much to them, despite the fact that they knew our friends had gone to a lot of time, effort and expense to get it all ready.

Boofuls and I went on our own and made excuses for her. There was a bit of an atmosphere and we could see our friends were a bit annoyed but we ploughed on regardless with outr forced jollity and over loud laughter. The croissants were good though.

When we got back home, Lashes and her boyfriend were just saying goodbye to each other as he was heading off to his family for Christmas. As he left he dropped it in the conversation that he wouldn’t be back for almost a week. Lashes had thought it was going to be two days so that cooled the Christmas warmth down a bit more – to glacial levels, actually. Thanks for that, Boyfriend.

For the first time in thirty two years it was just Boofuls, me and Lashes round the dinner table. Normally we host the big family dinner and I love it. The bustle, the noise and the mess of Christmas is what makes it all special for me. Instead we had Lashes hurt, hungover, angry and upset. Me angry, missing my family and exhausted from doing too much, trying to get all the jobs done and then there was Boofuls, silent and morose at the dinner table occasionally trying to be funny and being met with half-hearted smiles.

Not so much a celebration of Christmas as an endurance test. Every now and then a dog’s head would pop up hopefully looking for a titbit to come their way only to be met with “Get down!” from all three of us.

We tried, we really did. It was just too hard. We put on the Christmas music and the hats from the crackers but try as we might It was a relief when it was all over and we could turn on the television and not have to talk to each other.

As Christmases go, I’d have to rank this one as being the worst. I gave up and went to bed at 9pm glad to see the back of it.

Merry Christm….oh just sod off!


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