This time in December it becomes hard to write anything work related without being ignored or labelled as a bit sad. Yet I still wanted to have an opportunity to share in the barrage of Christmas themed poems and office parties. So, I decided to tell you the tale of my relationship with Father Christmas which you might find interesting. I swear that this Blog does not actually have a hidden message or a work related theme. It’s just me joining in with festive spirit and riding the Christmas wave, honest.
So here is my tale;
Many of you might not believe this but I have only celebrated Christmas for 18 years and that’s not because I am still in Sixth Form. In the land far, far away where I was born people wake up at Christmas day and…go to work. There are no Christmas lights or trees at every home and no one actually likes turkey and pigs in blankets. For me and my people December is more about lighting candles and eating donuts and chocolate coins, I am sure you get the picture by now.
I started celebrating Christmas after I met my husband in 1997 and immediately embraced the festivities. By that I mean the getting presents and eating loads of chocolates part of the festive activities. We celebrated many Christmases in a variety of places from our tiny flat in Bondi Beach through a desert town where we got very strange looks asking for bacon in the local market to our family home in Portishead. Christmas is a much more staged and special affair with our children being a big part of it these days. For me it’s the only time in the year when you can really relax and tune out as everyone else is too and this makes it very special. Just like British humour (I do try) and Sunday roasts, Christmas has become part of my cultural identity alongside all the other cultural stuff that was there before.