I love Christmas, truly I do, everyone says they do at this time of year but for me it's the top of the year mountain- when everything feels as it should be. I cannot describe properly how happy I was sitting by the lit, adorned tree watching Elf on Sunday after several lovely Christmas meals over the weekend.
December is exhausting though isn't it? It's the thing no one wants to say. It's the most wonderful time of the year but the hope of Boxing Day and salvation via a duvet and Christmas tv or books is the only thing that gets me through some of the darker hours of Christmas hangovers.
In fact I think Boxing day should be renamed boxset day. This makes me a little cross with myself too because really I love the idea of getting all wrapped up in thermals and chic winter hats and going to the races to top up on festive er cheer (alcohol) and have a gamble out in the open, bracing air on the 26th of December and then perhaps collapsing for boxset day, or what you will, on the 27th- but I'm back to work on the Wednesday and so for me boxing day will be about pots (and pots) of tea, Nancy Mitford, a murder mystery and rose and violet creams. Right now, hugging my venti latte and drinking the fifth resolve of the week it's all I long for.
2 comments:
Christmas is lovely but the run-up to it is very wearing. I did my Christmas shopping last night in Fortnum & Mason because I knew taking a more sensible approach and toddling off to Westfield or John Lewis would have left me broken and battered. As it was, I bought some marmalade and some posh biscuits and then got bored and shouted 'finished'.
Totally, I'm already looking forward to a detox in January!
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