The Brussels Post, 1976-12-22, Page 25Sugar and Spice
by Bill Smiley
Christmas time
There is no time of the year that passes
more quickly than the few weeks before
Christmas.
One day it's only about the first week in
November. The Christmas gift catalogues
are just out, and Bing Crosby has barely
commenced singing "I'm Dreaming etc,
and the Santa Claus parade is, a few
weeks off and the town's Christmas lights
have just gone up, so you know that the
actual holiday is weeks, if not months, in
the future.
' Then, suddenly, you have about six
dicey days to go, and you haven't bought
either tree or turkey, let alone gifts and
cards, and you know you're going to be
flyinglike a bat out of hell to get ready for
the annual bacchanalia with which we
celebrate the birth of Christ.
And I guess maybe that's part of the fun
- going slightly ape for a few days each
year, running around like a cat on a hot tin
roof, and spending money like a drunken
sailor, to coin a, few brilliant, original
similes and metaphors.
Some peop le, and the rest of us detest
them, go around smugly in. December
telling anyone who will listen that they
have all their. 'gifts bought and wrapped,
their cards dispatched , their plum pudding
made, and even their rotten tree up and
decorated.
They're like the people in Alden
Nowlan's poem, who set the breakfast
table, before going to bed, make the bed
before going down to breakfast, have their
names and birthdates' inscribed on their
tombstones before they die, with nothing to
add but the date of death.
Perhaps they are admirable people, in a
way, but I hate them. They are so busy
getting ready for tomorrow that they
haven't time to enjoy today.
Like most slobs, I comfort myself by
constantly reassuring myself that truly
creative people are tardy, procrastinating
and slovenly, that it takes a narrow mind to
have a tidy desk, that life is only a
preparation for death, which is anything
but neat, and that I wouldn't want to be
like those people for all the oil in Arabia.
Remember when it used to be all the tea in
China?
It's partly true, though. E'very year, the
Old Battleaxe and I plan to have a gracious
Christmas. We plan it in June, and then
forget all about 'it until Dec. 17th. '
The plan goes something like this. 'The
cards will be purchased about September,
and with' care. None of this, "Give me
three dozen of those and threedozen of
those red ones and .ab out twenty green
ones."
Our, tree will be large, stately and
gorgeous, and will . be erected without
confusion or blasphemy at .least a week'
before Christmas.
Every gift will be chosen with care,
about October, wrapped exquisitely, and
stored in the front hall closet.
Christmas dinner will be planned
carefully, so that there will be a, minimum
of fuss. Turkey will be ordered ana
delivered at precisely the right moment.
Plum pudding will be baked and frozen,
probably in November, ready to be popped
in the oven.
Records will be sorted and all set to go
on hi-fi. There'll be carol singing, a fire in
the fireplace, peace and goodwill in all our
hearts, and joy to the world.
House will be full of lovable children,
and gentle Grandad, who will p lay with
each other, while the old lady arid I sit
around benignly and smile and smile, with
our hearts overflowing. And we'll all go to
church on Christmas Day to get away from
the commercialism, and revel in the True
Meaning of Christmas.
Somewhere between the planning and
the execution,, something goes awry.
Maybe it's because life is too complicated
to spend six months getting ready for a
three-day orgy.
Somehow, we'fe too "busy with
Thanksgiving and Remembrance Day and
the Grey Cup and sewing Kim's pants, and
marking essays and bickering and making
up, to make any preparations at all.
Cards are last year's leftovers, plus a
few cheap extras, sent out on Dec. 23rd.
I go out on the 24th and beat the snow
and ice off the third-last skeleton in the
Christmas tree lot, and it is erected to 'the
accompaniment of oaths when I try to nail
my finger to the floor, and screams of rage
and disgust when the dam' thing falls over
for the fourth time.
Gifts are purchased with all 'the careful
selection of passengers on the Titanic
grabbing for lifebelts.
Only one string of the. Christmas tree
lights works, and the stores are sold out of
replacements.
Somebody forgot to order the fresh-
killed turkey, and we wind up with a beast
that was frozen during the. last. Ice Age. We
have to chop the 'guts- out. with a' chisel.
Plum pudding? Forget it. We're all on a
diet. .
Nobody got around to sorting out the
records, and on Christmas Eve, instead of
We Three Kings of Orient, we get There'll
Be a Hot Time in the Old Town tonight,
with p ornographic verses by J akaloo
Shuffler and His Shifflers. Somebody has
lost the book of carols.
There is no kindling and the firewood is
wet. It smokes. The only peace in the house
is when you lock yourself in the bathroom,
and the lock doesn't work, and the infants
wander in and say, "What are you doing,
Grandad?"
, Grandchildren are incorrigible, pulling
over firescreen, floor lamp and Great-
Grandad in a muddle of breaking and
bawli ng, filling their diapers during
dinner, and demanding to stay 'up until
midnight to see S. Claus.
We never make it to church because
we're too busy celebrating the birth of
Christ.
Maybe next year.
Santa may be .going modern; but
one Christmas wiittat,for.
you are 'still old-fashioned:
good thootii full table;
and warm hearth. with smiling facOS.
T.6 you and yours' ue 'sincerely'
send our Warmest holiday grootingto,
Don Hornllton
REAL ESTATE & INSURANCE LTD.
IILISTOWEL# Ontario.
HARRIS — WATSON
Robert Harris of Toronto, son of Mr. and Mrs. Leslie Harris of
Kitchener and Sandra Gail Watson, daughter of Mr. and Mrs.
Gerald Watson of Blyth were married by Rev. Edward Baker in
Duff's United Church, Walton on December 3. Their attendants
were Doris Cuylle, London, Jalia Adams, London, Anne Watson,
Blyth, sister of the bride, Gary Amos, Waterloo, Jim Harris,
brother of the groom and David Watson, brother of the bride,
both of London. Elva Wilbee was organist and Graeme Craig,
Walton was soloist. Following a reception and buffet at Family
Paradise the couple left on .a short honeymoon to Kitchener.
They are living at 140 Carlton St., #1004, Toronto.
(Photo by Phillips)
CHRISTMAS GIFT
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A11111114,
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tHt -BRUitELS-ItiOtt. DECEMBER' ..24 litt