Two weeks until Christmas

I have absolutely no idea what to blog about today. So, I thought I would write about how close we are to Christmas and how ill prepared I am. Two weeks to go and I’ve only just put my Christmas tree on the mantelpiece. Yes, you read it correctly. My Christmas tree is so small I sit it on the mantelpiece. Firstly, I pull it out of the paper bag in which it is stored and unwrap it from the layer of bubble wrap. It comes with an attached star and is covered with a glittery effect, so the only decoration it needs is a red bird. The red bird on the Christmas tree is a family tradition. I do not know where or when it originated, I only know it is meant to bring luck and my tree looks incomplete without the red bird. Last year my mantelpiece looked bare, the small tree marooned in the middle of an expanse of white, centred between the bottom of two paintings. So, I bought a couple of artificial twigs of holly and ivy, both of which are now sprawled next to the tree.

Of course, the tree is too small and too squat for any presents to fit under it, if I had managed to buy presents. I have bought a couple of them, the Kris Kringle present for one. I won’t mention what I bought or who it was for, just in case one of my family is reading this. Although, I don’t for one moment believe they will. And I bought a small gift for my grandson. Small because the large gift has already arrived at his house, which is on the other side of the country. Small also because his parents must work out how to pack everything after New Year when they will head back home again. But I still have more presents to buy and I would love to have some sort of divine inspiration as to what to get.

Buying presents, especially for occasions such as Christmas, is not only a necessity but also an art. Or so I believe. It can sometimes take me weeks, or even months to decide upon what I think is the correct gift for each person. I’m not always right with my choice. But the thought is there, along with the hours of pounding pavements and forcing my way through maddening crowds. There is something about gift giving holidays which turn everyone slightly crazy, the desperate ones grabbing for the last bargain on the shelf or shouldering their way to the special on Christmas crackers.

Christmas crackers for the table. The table which will display the food I have yet to think of, let alone buy. I wish a Christmas elf would quietly sort out the menu for the day and indeed the entire week. But that is most likely the topic for another post.

Alex

Alex de Fircks is a writer of memoir and short fiction. She blogs about family, moments in time, memories and travel. Alex is passionate about history, genealogy and family stories.

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