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Twice on radio over the weekend I heard items on chat shows about how to have a 'stress free' Christmas. One programme on Saturday had a panel on to give advice. I was a bit taken aback by all this attention given to the subject. Was it making too much of it, I wondered?
I happened, at the time I was listening, to be peeling my way through a four-stone bag of spuds with four bunches of carrots, four bags of brussels sprouts, a big bunch of parsnips and two cauliflowers waiting to be cleaned, topped and tailed, peeled and chopped. I was preparing for our family Christmas dinner at home on Sunday. The clan was gathering and I was doing as much of the prep as I could in advance.
As I listened, with the turkey roasting in the oven and the ham bubbling nicely on the stove, a back-up cake sharing space in the oven with said turkey (for those who don't like my Christmas pudding, already made) this panel suggested ways of alleviating said stress.
My kitchen was warm and cosy on a day you wouldn't put a dog out in and I was in my element, imbued with a quiet sense of satisfaction as I progressed towards what I hoped would be another epic Mammy Lynch dinner. I had one ear cocked to the panel chattering away in the background, talking about present-buying and giving, the cost, the stress of the expense, the shopping itself, the stress of the shopping, the stress, the stress, the stress. I was getting stressed listening to them.
They did suggest cutting back or going the Kris Kindle route for presents. This is the third Christmas my family and I have cut back by keeping it to just close family and then agreeing a modest set amount to spend. There was a collective sigh of relief the first year it was mooted and we've all had reason to be grateful ever since. Most importanty it cuts down on cost and I do agree that the expense of Christmas can be the source of considerable stress. It also cuts down on time spent shopping. And besides, most people are lucky enough to have all they want these days.
I used to spend ages trying to find the perfect presents for loved ones, agonising over my choices. I've copped on. Now I work on the premise that it's a gesture, a token, and I shop quickly and easily. This year I was organised enough to have it all done and wrapped by the end of November. For the next week or so I'll enjoy browsing and soaking up the atmosphere, smug in the knowledge that I don't have to join long queues at checkouts.
The panel devoted a large part of their discussion to the stress associated with making the Christmas dinner and suggested ways to cut down the workload. Buy pre-prepared vegetables was one. Buy cooked turkey crowns, prepared hams. Ye Gods! If we can't take the time at Christmas to prepare a good home cooked meal, when can we?
The Christmas dinner is a celebration, a feast. The smells that fill the house are the stuff(ing) of tradition! It's only right that a bit of preparation goes into it, I think. And preparation is key. Doing as much work as possible in advance means less toil on Christmas Day and more time to spend with family.
They talked about the woman of the house, for it is she, traditionally, who prepares the big spread, being 'put upon' - getting little help in preparing and cleaning up. Only if she chooses to be a mute martyr, I think. I'm vocal on the subject of many hands making light work on the day and usually manage to bag a place on the sofa before someone breaks out the chocolates.
The biggest source of stress, the panel agreed, was trying to fulfill unrealistic expectations of a 'perfect' Christmas for family. I've lived through enough of them at this stage to know there is no such thing. But you can come close to it for children. It's been my experience that, on the morning, they'll be thrilled with what they get from Santa, especially if there's the element of surprise and delight of an unexpected gift. That and allowing them to eat chocolate from selection boxes for breakfast while still clad in their pyjamas.
One member of the panel suggested, helpfully(!) that people could relieve stress by not striving for the top end champagnes, "your Bollingers and your Moet and Chandons" but opting instead for cheaper brands that are, he said, every bit as good to the untrained palate. Now while I am willing to concede here to getting a tad frazzled from time to time over Christmas when I have a few too many things to do and am pressed for time, the quality of champagne on offer is something I can safely say I've never suffered misgivings over. I have wine. White and red. I have beer, assorted. I have spirits and even some liquers. Come enjoy a convivial Christmas drink with me by all means but only if you're happy with what you're given.
Exasperated, I was just about to switch over to my Christmas CD to hear Bing Crosby croon "I'm Dreaming of a White Christmas' when the panel touched on decorations and the anxiety caused by trying to create the perfect Christmas ambience. I suppose some people have no interest, but even so, with the array of decorations available in shops now, it'd be nigh-on impossible not to introduce some festive element to the surroundings. I populate the other extreme, having to stop myself from overdoing things, tipping over into Santa's Grotto/ Winter Wonderland territory. It takes considerable restraint.
I couldn't get a nice set of lights for a small Christmas tree I have in a big red pot at the front door so I put three small sets of battery operated lights on it instead. Up above it I hung a beautiful big red lantern with a stout red candle in it. I was very pleased with the effect I'd created, until it came to last Saturday night. After my marathon dinner preparations, and deciding the crowd on the radio were making much ado about nothing, I sat down and relaxed with what I felt were a couple of well deserved drinks.
Later, in mellow mood, before I locked up for the night, I went out in the wind and rain where I fumbled for ages trying to find the switches to the three different sets of lights to turn them off, being pushed by the wind against the spiky tree branches repeatedly as I tried to locate them. Then I had to clamber up onto the garden seat, where I balanced precariously, trying to blow out the candle in the lantern, which, amazingly, had stayed lighting in the gale force winds. In fact the damn thing wouldn't blow out! But was I stressed? Hell no.
Happy Christmas.
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