6 posts tagged “christmas”

 
Baking research
Originally uploaded by Thoroughly Good

Since returning from holiday, I've set my sights on one very important goal.

It may seem to early to be thinkign about it, but as much as people want to deny it Christmas is coming.

With such an important celebration coming up, some individuals find shameless self-gratification in the creation of a whole variety of foodstuffs we wouldn't otherwise eat ourselves or offer up as gifts to friends of family.

Those same people suddenly start pouring over recipe books in a bid to find the formula for the perfect Christmas. If we can only find the perfect recipe we could, potentially, give the perfect gift.

According to Delia Smith, I should technically be starting the prep for the stalwart Christmas cake on Thursday night. Brilliant. I rub my hands together with glee. I get to start the cooking process on Thursday night. I can't wait.

Then there's the preserves (apparently, again according to Delia, these have to be left in a cupboard for three months before consumption) and sundry sweet titbits.

All of this adds up hours of baking joy to be had in the run up to the main event.

Normally I'm foaming at the mouth when I clap eyes on wrapping paper or gift catalogues or big expensive gifts showcased in high street stores and internet websites. But where food is concerned, forward planning is not only fun and acceptable but advisable to.

Such a shame that work is getting in the way.

I sneezed at around 7.45am this morning. I was leaning against the kitchen countertop at the time. It was quite a hearty sneeze, I have to admit, something which took me rather by surprise.

Admittedly, this isn’t necessarily the most enticing of openers for a blog posting but I was so surprised by the sneeze that the grumbling back pain I had been nursing mid-way through the night was suddenly made worse. Without any warning my back suddenly went into spasm.

Seconds later I was laying flat on the floor in the hallway staring up at the ceiling contemplating how badly timed my streaming cold and resulting sneezes were.

Only two weeks before I’d been pestering someone in television about tickets to the BBC Christmas party. “It’ll be a hoot,” said one friend who, I might add, is now not going.

The response from the lady in television had been curt. “You’re not allowed to go. You’re not in that department.”

Despite my repeated protestations that everyone else who sat around me was allowed to go and had tickets, she was having none of it. Consequently I started last week without a single invitation to any Christmas party.

“We can slip you in with us,” said one colleague.

“It’s not the same,” I replied glumly, “and, frankly, when someone tells me I am not allowed to go it only makes me more insistent that I should have a ticket especially if other people have got one without any bother.”

I did make a fuss, in my usual way. I made notes in my diary and sent emails at a reasonably frequent rate (although, I might add, not so frequently that it might have been regarded as spam). No response.

I was gutted. Just started at the BBC. I’ve been paid. I’ve got an ID card. I have the email address and yet, when it comes to the party, I’m not allowed to go. How very disappointing.

A random email late last week did in fact confirm that I was on some list somewhere and I should be able to get along. I was given instructions, directions. Everything was in place.

Then at the weekend, during a marathon baking session, I start going down a seriously bad cold. I’m sneezing the whole time. Then the tiredness kicks in. Then I start thinking about this party I’m now invited to. There’s going to be 1500 people there. It’s the first time I’ve been on a social outside of the relative safety of the Defector’s Weld. There’ll be a dance floor with a DJ and “choons” no doubt. Everyone will be young. I don’t know anyone that well. All people know of me are the “witticisms” I throw out in the work environment during the day. This Christmas party could well be the first time that work colleagues register their true feelings about me and my presence in the BBC.

In short, I could find myself standing at the side of the venue looking at the young people dancing around like mad things. I could be standing there with an orange juice and a notebook, just “observing” things. I could be really quite lonely and extremely miserable.

Then this morning, sneezing hard and ending up laid on the floor hoping the pain would go away quickly. Was I in the mood now to go to the Christmas party?  Not really. Would colleagues really miss me if I didn't go? Would anyone notice if I didn't go? Would I feel like a spare part at a stranger's wedding or would I in fact have such a fantastic time that I'd get completely slaughtered, not remember a thing and miss the spectacularly important deadline I have coming up on Wednesday evening ?

It’s 1735 and I’ve still not made up my mind. I'd like to slip away quietly if I figure it's not for me. At the same time it would be terribly nice if I didn't end up feeling like an idiot.

Under the stairs

I'm a shameless romantic. It might still be too early to think about Christmas (especially, if like me, you're not doing the whole present buying thing this year) but there are certain things I like to do as the season approaches.

Years ago, undoubtedly influenced by my craft-heavy mother, I was introduced to the joys of candle-making.

There will be some who know me in person who'll almost certainly roll their eyes and reassure themselves that they were correct in their assessment of me. Yes, I am quite a weirdo.

I have absolutely no shame (as if you need me to remind you) and so I'm happy to report that the few hours I have to spare this coming weekend will be spent doing a spot of candlemaking for Christmas.

I can't wait.

I know it's still too early to talk about Christmas. I know that I do run the risk of people chasing after me with big sticks, but I have an exciting announcement to make about Christmas.

Me and Mr have made a little promise to each other about Christmas. We're not doing the present thing this year. What's the point? We get stressed about thinking of what to get, stressed about worrying whether we'll be able to pay for it and stressed on the day when we watch each other unwrap the gifts.

Why bother? Why not just enjoy Christmas for what it is. A holiday.

Christmas fud

From this moment on it's OK to think about Christmas.

Really, it is. The M&S Christmas Food brochure is out.

Every year is the same. I hit early December and start being all smiley, smiling at total strangers in an attempt to spread a little Christmas joy.

There’s a good reason for it. I’m filled with that Christmas spirit we all assume won’t come to us this year because we’re all too long in the tooth for it. And yet it comes and consumes us and, without warning, we find ourselves offering up little gestures to brighten someone’s Christmas holidays. Don’t deny it. We all do it.

This morning, cycling along tree lined pathways to Hither Green station on a bright, crisp autumnal morning, I passed a street cleaner painstakingly sweeping and shovelling up the leaves which had fallen on to the pavement.

It wasn’t the kind of work I would necessarily want to be doing because it was clear he had been doing it for hours already at 9am. It was dirty work. It was a little bit nippy. I wouldn’t have wanted to do it myself.

Instinctively, keen to extend my appreciation for his obvious efforts, I turned my head slightly and offered a smile. As I passed him on my bike I was certain I’d seen him smile back, albeit right at the last minute no doubt because he was a little taken aback.

I’ve no idea who he is other than the man who cleans the streets around Hither Green Station. But it strikes me that extending my thanks took absolutely no effort whatsoever. It’s the kind of thing I only ever do at Christmas. And it’s one of the only Christmas things I’m happy to start earlier and earlier every year.