for the past few years, i’ve been taking part in the mayfly project: the year in 24 words.
i enjoy the challenge of distillation. when it all boils down to just a few words, what *really* mattered this year?
here, then, the essence of my 2009.
new president, new home, new job, new family members. physiology frustrated, marathon scuppered. running to stand still, but plans afoot for the coming year!
now that i live an ocean away from my family, we usually don’t exchange gifts at Christmas. but the other day i saw a link to this charity gift card website, and thought it would be a really nice idea. so i sent everyone a small denomination giftcard which they can then donate to the charity of their choice. as part of the message going along with the giftcard i wrote:
This year I thought people would like the opportunity to pass on some good to any cause that is near and dear to their heart. Our family is so lucky, we have more than enough cheer to spread around
and while that it technically true – my family are lucky in that we all, thankfully, have enough to eat, shelter, and clothe ourselves – upon reflection, i think i’ve probably been a bit insensitive. i was really speaking only for myself – because while *i* have enough money to donate to others, others in my immediate family are definitely not as well-off. in fact, there are some in my family who probably could have made good use of that $25 themselves.
talking about this makes me a bit uncomfortable, actually. truth be told, i’m fairly well-off in comparison to many – i live in an expensive city, yet still have enough to do things like travel, go out to concerts, give nice gifts, and generally not worry too much. in fact, i live a fairly cushy lifestyle by some standards. that’s not to say that jonno and i don’t work hard, or watch our spending in other ways. but overall, we are extraordinarily lucky to have not only enough, but more than we need.
others in my family have it a bit harder. there are some who’ve had to rely on public aid. there are some who’ve had difficulty finding steady employment. there are some who worry about keeping the jobs they have. there are some who make ends meet – but only just.
and to be perfectly, excruciatingly honest, this is the only time it has occurred to me that maybe, just maybe, it might bother them that i have certain financial freedoms that they don’t.
don’t get me wrong: there’s no one in my family who would let any one of us go without. but charity is a luxury available only to those that have a surplus. that’s a luxury that some of my family just don’t have.
if i critique my motives, i know that my heart was in the right place. but i have to wonder if perhaps i was so caught up in making the gesture to make myself feel good, that i never considered whether it was something that would make others feel good. if i wasn’t giving what i wanted to give, rather that what others would want to receive.
how’s that for selfish? i never stopped to think about it at all.
they say there is no such thing as a truly altruistic act, and i suppose i proved that to be true. but maybe even if my magnanimous gesture wasn’t such a great present for everyone else, at least it gave *me* something in return – a little self-awareness, a little sensitivity, and a little reminder of something i’d clearly forgotten. that no matter how well-intentioned, Christmas is not about the giving – it’s about family.
and what a gift that is indeed.
god knows (you’ve got to give to get) – el perro del mar
little tree
little silent Christmas tree
you are so little
you are more like a flowerwho found you in the green forest
and were you very sorry to come away?
see i will comfort you
because you smell so sweetlyi will kiss your cool bark
and hug you safe and tight
just as your mother would,
only don’t be afraidlook the spangles
that sleep all the year in a dark box
dreaming of being taken out and allowed to shine,
the balls the chains red and gold the fluffy threads,put up your little arms
and i’ll give them all to you to hold
every finger shall have its ring
and there won’t be a single place dark or unhappythen when you’re quite dressed
you’ll stand in the window for everyone to see
and how they’ll stare!
oh but you’ll be very proudand my little sister and i will take hands
and looking up at our beautiful tree
we’ll dance and sing
“Noel Noel”
~little tree, by e.e. cummings
christmas time is here – vince guaraldi
now that it’s officially december, and only 3 short weeks until christmas/my birthday, i like to give those who may need multiple gift ideas for me (read: jonno) a few helpful hints. with that in mind, i present my annual “gimme gimme gimme” list!
tokyomilk “honey and the moon” perfume.
i very rarely fall in love with perfumes this quickly, but i love this – it’s sweet and spicy, and just a little bit complicated. unfortunately it’s only available either shipped internationally, or at the new anthropologie store on regent street. but it’s a steal at about £25
alternatively, fresh “sugar” perfume.
in a word, delicious. this has been on my wishlist for years now, and now there’s an actual fresh store in london!
the crumpler new delhi 230 camera bag
now that i have a camera worth protecting, and extra lenses to lug, i need a new camera bag. but this also wonderfully doubles as a regular messenger bag when you remove the camera pouch! so i can use it as an all in one when i want to bring my camera but also need to stash my wallet/keys/etc, but also not look like a big dork if i use it for other stuff.
a philips wake up light alarm clock
i’ve heard people rave about these for years. in the winter, my sleep gets all kinds of messed up, and prising my eyes open in the pitch-black morning is pure torture. i’ve heard tell that these alarm clocks help wake you up gently over the course of a half hour, and you awake feeling alert. which would be a fine change from my generalised discombobulation.
i want to upgrade my electric toothbrush. nuff said.
almost forgot! some yoga blocks
i’ve been working on my jump through for a year now, and still can’t manage it with straight legs. so i need some blocks to practice. and hey! cheap present!
and finally at the other end of the spectrum: an imac
i admit it, i want one. my first ever computer was a mac, and since i got my iphone earlier this year, i remembered why i loved them so much. my current computer is already 3 years old, and starting to show signs of wear. however since they start at £900, i have a feeling santa won’t be dropping one down my chimney any time soon.
so there you have it – my greedy little heart, version 2009. truthfully, though, i’d be so happy with just the company of good friends, some good food, and peace and health for all my loved ones.
but if you were on your way out to the apple store, i won’t stop you…
another thanksgiving here in the uk.
i will be working on the day, but hosting a traditional turkey dinner on the saturday – a motley dinner party of three americans, three south africans, two brits, and one canadian. they are friends and family both.
between the the two years i lived in Canada, and the nearly seven years i’ve been here, i’m almost getting used to celebrating on a completely different day. scary.
but i am grateful. this past year my family has welcomed a new nephew, a new sister-in-law, and very soon, another new niece/nephew. so much love.
happy thanksgiving to one and all – i hope you have as much to be grateful for as i do.
For each new morning with its light,
For rest and shelter of the night,
For health and food, for love and friends,
For everything Thy goodness sends.
~Ralph Waldo Emerson
and so, i hear you clamouring, how was the vacation?
let’s play a little game, shall we? guess how many pictures i took with my camera? now, given that for most of my holidays, i come back with anywhere from 300 – 400 photos to sort through and edit, and given that i was in sun-soaked turkey for a week, you’d probably expect somewhere in that neighbourhood, right?
three. i took three photos with my camera. despite dutifully lugging it everywhere in hopes of capturing some bucolic holiday shots, i might as well not have brought it along at all.
(now, i didn’t let this whole experience go undocumented – oh no. i did take a whole dozen pictures with my iphone. i’ll share some of them below, with apologies for the quality).
i preface my moaning by saying that i’m *not* a high maintenance kinda girl. those of you who know me in person will attest to that. i really feel i need to mention that disclaimer.
i’d signed on to this holiday completely sight unseen. my good friend Tracey asked if i wanted to join herself, another acquaintance of ours, and two friends of the acquaintance (whom i hadn’t met), on an “all-inclusive” package holiday to turkey. given my druthers, package holidays are not generally my preference, but i’d been on two before and enjoyed myself. sun, food and alcohol are really what all-inclusives are all about, and so, i said ’sure’ without even thinking twice about it. the hotel was supposedly 5-star, but i also knew to take that rating with a huge grain of salt. i just wanted some sun and a few umbrella drinks.
so we arrived, and the hotel looked a bit tacky – strange constellations of fairy lights hanging from the ceiling, balloons and crepe-paper streamers as decor, fake plants, all a bit motel 6-ish. which, you know, is not a big deal. it was a cheap holiday, and i didn’t have terribly high expectations to begin with. the room was fine – i had to change rooms after the first night because being located next to the stairwell was too noisy, but that was fine too.
here’s me on day one – all excited about a week of pure relaxation ahead.
we check in, settle, head down to check the pool (it’s still really early). the pool is appealing, although unheated. there are plastic sunloungers abounding, and we strip down for some spf-30 roasting action. bake-turn-bake-turn. it’s soon breakfast time and there’s a giant buffet of good food (including the bizarrely faux-pink turkish sausages which have that red-dye you sometimes see in bologna). for drinks, however, there is automated a sad little automated coffee vending machine (blech!), and Tang. several varieties of Tang, being paddle-stirred in large slurpee-style dispensers.
now, if you were a child of the 70s in America like me, you’ll remember Tang as the powdered imitation orange flavoured breakfast drink of the astronauts. in the 80s, however, Tang fell out of favour and largely disappeared from the shelves.
ladies and gentlemen, i am here to tell you that Tang is alive and well, and being served in cheap turkish resorts in place of real juice.
and this was the first harbinger of doom. because really, can you not provide real juice at an “all-inclusive” resort? i hasten to add real juice *was* in fact offered – fresh squeezed orange juice, for just an additional 2 turkish lira, or roughly £1. i kid you not.
so we had lots of Tang, because Tang was what was on offer the entire week – unless you went to the “bar” and asked for some flat generic coke or lemonade or orange soda, served in an airplane-sized plastic cup, half full of ice. there were a few large cups floating around the hotel, and we took to holding on to them when we were lucky enough to stumble across one. which is, in and of itself, pretty sad – we were hoarding plastic cups.
so we headed back to the pool, where we are surrounded by 99.9% brits. fine, okay. there are several copies of the daily mail paper spotted, and books like “ant and dec’s bio”. there is lots and lots of smoking going on – probably 90% of the adults and many of the children (*maybe* 14 years old at a stretch?) are smoking. it wasn’t terribly pleasant to be constantly surrounded by smoke, and see cigarette butts littered everywhere. but hey, it’s turkey, right? everyone smokes here, not a huge deal.
the whole pool area is nice enough. here’s a picture – the building across the street is another “resort”.
the music in the pool area starts up. it’s a strange mix of s club 7/take that/tom jones (as to be expected), lady ga ga’s “poker face” (maybe 50 times in the week?), too fucking much michael jackson, some oldies (for the senior set), and lots (lots!) of the black-eyed peas “boom boom pow”. if you care to, you can have a listen here, but the lyrics go a little something like:
That digital spit
Next level visual shit
I got that boom boom pow
How the beat bang, boom boom powI like that boom boom pow
Them chickens jackin’ my style
They try copy my swagger
I’m on that next shit nowI’m so 3008
You so 2000 and late
I got that boom, boom, boom
That future boom, boom, boom
Let me get it now
…I’m a beast when you turn me on
Into the future cybertron
Harder, faster, better, stronger
Sexy ladies extra longer‘Cause we got the beat that bounce
We got the beat that pound
We got the beat that 808
That the boom, boom in your town
so that was fun.
after lunch, we got a little thirsty. as part of the “all-inclusive” there is free beer and wine, and free vodka drinks – at least, until 11pm, when, as it turns out, drinks are £5. i wish i could say that the drinks were even palatable – it’s not like i’m some kind of snob! – but truly, they weren’t. the beer was watery, the wine was practically vinegar, and the vodka drinks… well on does get tired of tiny thimblefuls of cheap vodka and orange soda (again, no juice!). after day two, i just gave up.
and so it turns out that the only thing worse than a tacky, rundown, boring holiday is a *dry* tacky, rundown, boring holiday.
it only went downhill from there. the activities were minigolf (putting into a wooden box) and boules, facilitate by crazed activity staff who ran around shouting at the guest, haranguing them to join. the cafeteria tablecloths became soiled and weren’t changed (yet strangely people dressed to the nines in glitter and stilettos for dinner!?!) the glasses were frequently dirty. the towel stand was only open on alternate days? (thus negating the point of the towel card – having to drag beach towels back and forth every day.) in the evenings there was no entertainment – we played cards until bedtime like a bunch of oaps. the incessant music went on until well past 2am. the other guests were loud, crass and generally rude. we nicknamed one family the Clampetts, if that’s any indication. after two days on holiday, i actually started to feel rather depressed – was everyone else having a great time besides me? was i just being a big old snob? i began tweeting my observations (at 50p a text), simply because i couldn’t keep them to myself.
on day three, then, i jumped at the idea of going on a walk to the local beach with tracey. as we walked out of the gates of what i had begun in my mind to call “the compound”, it felt like a huge weight dropping from my shoulders – freedom!! we walked a few hundred yards to the beachfront, only to find… dirt. it was a little smudge of dirt crowded with sunloungers stacked nearly on top of each other. i made some tentatively snarky comment about at least being outside the “resort”, she and i looked at each other and just started laughing. relief flooded over me and i said, “oh thank god! i thought i was the only one who thought it was horrible!” and to my utter thankfulness she said, laughing, “oh it’s *hideous*!!” i nearly knocked her over hugging her – all this time i’d had to hold in my disappointment, worried about hurting the feelings of our other companions who all seemed to be enjoying themselves. finally i had an ally! things were looking up.
here was the beach. it almost looked pretty… from a distance you can’t even see the trash!
from that point on, we made a concerted effort to spend as much time as possible getting outside the walls of the “resort”. we trekked into the town of Altinkum – a shitty little strip of cafes serving up “full english breakfast”, “footy on the big screen”, “x-factor tonite!”. we went on a party boat – broiling in the day long sun, choked by chain smokers. we had dinner and went in search of a bar that wasn’t blaring karaoke or “amarillo”. we got tipsy on real beer and wifi access.
(as a side note: when i arrived, i asked the staff if they had wifi access, which they said they did – they only needed a mac address, which i happily provided. the it manager then told me it “doesn’t work for iphones”. ummmm, huh?! but whatever – being trapped at the hotel with no connectivity only exacerbated my feeling of isolation.)
our other three companions? never ventured outside the hotel. for the entire week, they were perfectly content with horrible drinks, shabby surroundings, and chavvy holidayers. we tried to encourage them, but they declined every time. all i can say is thank god for tracey, because she made the rest of the week bearable, and at times, even fun. we enjoyed ourselves in spite of our surroundings, and not because of them.
i perversely wish i hadn’t taken any pictures at all, because i’ve been told i actually made it look rather attractive, when in reality it was dingy and depressing. nevertheless, here’s my week in pictures:
the poker. we played for a cocktail and i won and ordered a piña colada. that was a tactical error because (without any juice at the hotel) my colada had no piña.
the day we first escaped from the compound. that’s relief tinged with hysteria you see on my face.
some lovely flowers at the dirt “beach”. too bad they were surrounded by a pile of rubbish.
tracey dives off the party boat. there was no shade, only a few sunloungers (which we possessively claimed in order to avoid sitting on a bench the whole day!)
we ventured to the bar across the street for one night. real cocktails!!
this gentleman was sunning himself while wearing a half shirt, a thong, and tube socks. standing up, it was not a pretty picture.
some classy ladies out for a night on the town (i.e. drunkenly singing “amarillo” at the top of their lungs). i can see why a night out in altinkum is something you’d dress up for!
one of our nights out, enjoying a turkish coffee.
the airport waiting for our flight home. i refused to pay £5 for a slice of pizza.
so to sum up: the resort was awful, altinkum was a shithole, and the most redeeming features about the whole week were the weather and clinging desperately to my sanity via tracey. it took me a week to write this blog post, in part, because i think i’ve been trying to block the whole thing out – i now know why they have those “holiday from hell” programmes. (other people have reviewed the resort here)
this is hell – elvis costello
so here’s what happens when you plan a holiday around sun and beaches: it rains.
it rained nearly every single day of my vacation. and yet somehow, through the unfailing optimism and hilarious good cheer of my travelling companion, (and copious amounts of beer), it was all okay. everything we did, was “perfect”. everything that was even moderately successful was “meant to be”.
i was, as tourguide, overcome with the realisation of just how different i am from the person that lived in boston 6 years ago. the paths and places i’ve forgotten, the words that tangled up my tongue. while there are bits and pieces that remain as intimately known as the back of my hand, more and more, each visit back represents snapshots of a life that is more different than i ever remembered, and all the unseen shifting that happened when i wasn’t looking.
time marches on, of course. would that i could freeze people, come back to exactly where they were when i left, slide right back into my slot, take up my place seamlessly in everyone else’s lives and times.
but i can’t. and the changes seem more and more pronounced each time i try to pick up where i left off. i cannot, it seems, expect to indefinitely straddle two worlds – at some point, they drift too far apart.
these observations are not new, of course. i’ve made them many times. what was new, was the realisation that it doesn’t really sting so much nowadays. i kinda wish it did.
other things of note:
a few photos (more here):
our flight to marrakech leaves at 6am tomorrow morning, so i’ll use this opportunity to wish everyone a very merry christmas, wherever you are!
with only 18 days to go, i’m having a hard time getting into the christmas spirit.
i’ve written in years past how my mum set quite a high bar when it came to celebrating. when i was recently home visiting, my brother brought out a bunch of pictures from when we were kids. year after year, through different decades and different haircuts, in front of different trees opening different presents, those pictures reflected a special kind of happiness that christmas brought. in many ways, the christmases of my childhood were pretty idyllic. and even well into my twenties, christmas still had that patina of wonder. pine scented, glowing, moving. with my birthday falling on christmas, that importance was multiplied.
which is why it’s so dispiriting that in recent years, it’s been so difficult for me to enjoy. it started with my move over here, and seems to get worse with each season. it gets harder and harder to immerse myself in the cheer, to allow myself to get caught up in the festive mood.
a large part of it has to do with the fact that the deep sense of peace and joy that the holiday used to bring me, has been lost since i suddenly found myself an atheist. whatever connection i felt with a greater universal energy was abruptly severed a few years ago, and i no longer get that stirring emotional response to the spiritual chords of the season. i still enjoy the traditions and themes of christmas, but not with the intensity and inner reverence i used to feel. i miss that. without it, the tree and gifts and food all feel rather more shallow. and no matter how i try, i can’t shake that surface tension. at times, i feel a bit numb to it all – then sad for the numbness. but the more i try to fake it, the paler it all seems, and the bright images fade like old photographs.
it doesn’t help that jonno never really celebrated christmas much as a kid, so my attempts to recapture the enthusiasm i used to feel are mostly lost on him. i try to get him to participate in the things that are important to me like trimming the tree, or playing christmas music – and he’ll take part trying to humour me, but i find myself continually disappointed because i know in my heart that he’s just mimicking what i want to see. i want it to *mean* something to him, because it means something to me. and the fact that it doesn’t isn’t his fault, or due to any lack of trying on his part. but it’s disheartening nonetheless, because it never really satisfies – i want depth and poignancy and schmaltzy sentimentality. and instead we go through the motions, with me desperately hoping that if it looks right, maybe it will start to feel right.
and then there’s the expat factor. while the uk loves christmas, none of their traditions really resonate with me. i don’t care much about the queen’s speech, or the christmas number one, or going to the pub on christmas eve. i don’t care much about christmas crackers and yorkshire puddings, and if i hear slade or the pogues one more time, i’ll go mad. all the things that used to get me in the spirit are missing here. charlie brown specials and candy canes and bing crosby and santa shaped sugar cookies and snow and garlands of cranberries are all missing. i know it sounds trivial, but these things trigger something inside. because even if i can no longer feel any connection to the spiritual, i still have a wellspring of memories to draw from – yet when nothing is the same, you can’t just tap into that on demand.
all of which adds up to a big giant “meh” so far this year.
i long for that feeling of joy and wonder again. yet i’ve learned through experience that you can’t manufacture it through carols or tinsel. so in deciding to go to morocco this year, where christmas isn’t even largely celebrated, i guess i’m giving myself permission to let go of expectation, to stop trying. perhaps in the future, that feeling will return. or maybe the holiday will become something new and different for me.
i don’t know. i just know that as hard as it is to let go of something that was once so important to me, it’s harder still to let it become diminished by trying to cling to the past.
departure lounge – christmas downer
If the only prayer you said in your whole life was, “thank you,” that would suffice. ~Meister Eckhart
happy thanksgiving!
with love to all family and friends celebrating, near and far. with so much gratitude for all you bring to my life.
heartfelt thanks.
this must be the newest stage of expatting. the stage where you stop trying to replicate what you’d do at home (and never really coming close enough to satisfy anyway) and just do something completely different instead.
tomorrow is thanksgiving in the states. brits here have a hard time comprehending the importance of this holiday, but it’s one of my favourites because it remains relatively “pure” – family, friends and food. it’s not yet been turned into an obligatory gift-giving occasion, or wholly commercial enterprise. and while the roots do, of course, harken back to a time when we mistreated and exploited the people and land that were here first (and in many ways still do), the theme of the holiday itself is about gratitude for what we have in our present day lives.
we cannot change the past, nor predict the future – but here and now, on this one day, if we have people in our lives that we love, and enough food to fill our bellies for this meal, then that is something to be grateful for. if you believe in a god, then you give thanks to that god. if you believe in mother earth, then you give thanks to her. if you simply believe in family and friends, then you give thanks to them for their presence in your life.
nothing more is required – a meal shared with loved ones, and thanks. so simple, yet so profound. it’s that which i love most about thanksgiving, but is so difficult to communicate to those that haven’t grown up with it.
each year here so far, i have been lucky enough to have fellow americans join me in my celebration. people who “get it”, who understand the emotion that thanksgiving conveys, and how difficult it is to be far away on a day when others are drawing near. and there’s a shared acknowledgement that while we try to recreate the holiday in our own way as best we can, we also know that it is never going to be quite right, simply because we are here… and so many of our loved ones are there. people back in the u.s. are coming together, and we are far away.
this year, through a variety of circumstances, the thanksgiving meal with fellow americans just isn’t going to happen. i thought about moving the date around, or trying to change the venue… but in the end, i decided to stop trying to put a square peg into a round hole. it’s never going to be right, because it’s just not right. i’m here, and they are there. it’s an american holiday, and i live in the u.k.
so we’re going out. to an american themed restaurant, that promises turkey and pumpkin pie and football and sam adams beer.
i used to think that going to a restaurant for t-day was sacrilege. but i think i’ve finally come to the realisation that no matter how i juggle the turkey and side dishes in a teeny british oven, no matter how i search out the traditional tinned pumpkin and cranberries and stovetop stuffing, no matter how many americans i gather together to celebrate with, no matter how hard i try to make everything the same as it would be back home, thanksgiving will never be the same, because it’s different here. my life is different here. and somehow this year it seems fitting to finally embrace that by doing something different. maybe i should be depressed about that, but somehow, i find myself relieved – like i’ve finally given myself permission to be okay with it all.
so i’ll be sitting in bodean’s tomorrow evening, with loved ones, a meal, and thanks.
in the true spirit of the holiday, nothing else is required.
happy easter!
to help celebrate the holiday, i give you: the ultimate peep show.
the washington post has a whole “peep show” of peep art which is hilarious – check it out here.
and so it ends.
all in all, 2007 was pretty uneventful for me. and that’s not a particularly bad thing – after several years of constant change, i think i needed this year to settle in, to allow things to settle. at first glance, that might look like settling for, or settling down – but it’s not the same. not at all. i am no longer afraid of moving slowly – only of standing still.
if the past few years have been writ in big bold strokes, this year was found in the small details. so much of life is in the details. so much love is in the details. real growth happens in tiny increments, often invisible to the naked eye, or passing observation – and the most important change only ever happens from the inside.
but new year’s eve is as good a time as any to look back and realise just how far you’ve come, and where you want to go. i was reading some old journals the other day and found this:
you know how sometimes you are able to step completely outside your life, and it’s like looking at the earth from the moon? seeing it as this miraculously blue and beautiful planet – a glittering marble. and when you’re in it, it’s hard to appreciate just how amazing it is. because your days so often are filled with the pavement in front of you as you trudge along, and the sky full of clouds above. and that’s just the way it is – most of the time, life is the dull and endless pavement.
but every so often, it’s a bright, shiny new marble.
and so that’s what i’m hoping for more of in 2008 – learning to step outside the grey, see beyond the clouds and pavement, and appreciate this glittering marble while i’m on it.
happy new year to you all!
wishing you peace, love and joy –
jen
i really enjoyed this exercise last year. it’s a way of boiling a year down to the essence – if you can only dedicate 24 words to 2007, what *really* mattered in your life? what can you say about it that means something?
it is simultaneously ridiculously simple, and very difficult. so here’s my best shot at 365 days in 24 words.
settling back in, re-establishing roots. our cat came and curled up in our hearts. flew to families two years missed. finally, relievedly, deservedly british.
yes, zeke has taken to curling up in cardboard boxes like a common hobo-cat… and yes, he has his own stocking
LITTLE tree
little silent Christmas tree
you are so little
you are more like a flower
who found you in the green forest
and were you very sorry to come away?
see i will comfort you
because you smell so sweetly
i will kiss your cool bark
and hug you safe and tight
just as your mother would,
only don’t be afraid
look the spangles
that sleep all the year in a dark box
dreaming of being taken out and allowed to shine,
the balls the chains red and gold the fluffy threads,
put up your little arms
and i’ll give them all to you to hold
every finger shall have its ring
and there won’t be a single place dark or unhappy
then when you’re quite dressed
you’ll stand in the window for everyone to see
and how they’ll stare!
oh but you’ll be very proud
and my little sister and i will take hands
and looking up at our beautiful tree
we’ll dance and sing
“Noel Noel”
“little tree” – e.e. cummings
the night before christmas (by clement clarke moore, read by harry humphrey)
to put a little holly in your jolly, here’s this years xmas playlist, featuring:
El Vez - Feliz Navi-Nada
The Waitresses - Christmas Wrapping
Magnet - Let It Snow
The Ronettes – Sleigh Ride
Stiff Little Fingers – White Christmas
The Ramones – Merry Christmas (I Don’t Want to Fight Tonight)
Death Cab For Cutie – Christmas (Baby Please Come Home)
and here’s the 
feed for downloads.
happy holidays!!
And London shops on Christmas Eve
Are strung with silver bells and flowers
As hurrying clerks the City leave
To pigeon-haunted classic towers,
And marbled clouds go scudding by
The many-steepled London sky.
from “christmas” – John Betjeman
one of the first things i brought over when i knew i would be living in the u.k. long-term, was my collection of christmas ornaments. i’ve collected them ever since i was a little girl – i can trace the history of my childhood christmases through them. when i got old enough to earn an allowance, i would buy an ornament for the family tree each year – one of those metal plated ones that you get engraved in wonky script, the surname always spelled wrong. decorating the tree every year was a trip down memory lane, with the emergence of each ornament from the box – heavy plaster of paris handprints done in school, pasted paper and foil angels made in church, hand knitted decorations a gift from grandma. each one given a year marker, each one given a special place on the tree. it’s a tradition i have carried on for myself since buying my own first tree.
which basically means poor little “woodstock” is about to topple over from the weight of them.
