Countdown to Christmas

Opinion is divided in this household between the bah humbug traditionalists and those who wish to get Christmas swinging as soon as the autumn equinox has passed. Each year advent calendars are opened on the first of the month with at least one shout of, "When are we getting the Christmas tree?" I look at the respective pictures of a goose wearing a paper hat in celebration, a reindeer, a bauble and an elf and take a deep breath, almost ducking for cover as I announce that it won't be going up until the week before Christmas. I love this time of year and embrace everything about Christmas, but like it to linger afterwards too, so although the tree may be bought at an earlier date, it'll be home to a few robins in the garden before it's lugged into the house.

We have the perfect starting-gun for our festivities. The eldest offspring celebrates a birthday tomorrow; one week's grace is always given for all things birthday and this is sacrosanct, the poor thing has all things good coming to her in the space of three weeks and then a desert, with regard to gifts and celebrations, for another twelve months. Any early arriving festive cards are piled in a corner, boxes of decorations twitch in their place in the loft - hopefully not as a result of being found by rodents - and wistful queries regarding paperchains (yes we still make them every year!), are ignored. The day that the birthday cards are shuffled off their perch, signals the off. Children appear with much favoured decorations and suggestions as to where they should be placed (usually same place every year, something comforting in the familiarity) and the nagging re the tree steps up a notch or two.

Last Friday I went shopping in the nearby Roman spa town with the youngest. She thought we were Christmas shopping, and so did I. But then we remembered the birthday child; and the next few hours were given over to fulfilling that brief; this means that this year, as with most, I shall reach the middle of the month without having begun to think of what will be opened on the 25th, and the whirlwind of the following fortnight will ensure that trees and mistletoe become bystanders in the bid to buy something for everyone on my list of far too many relations and godchildren.  Advent, a time of anticipation in this household; and expectation for she who finds that S for shopping come under W for Wife...