Nothing says Christmas like the pointless waste-of-money present that no one asked for or ever could possibly want. Nothing says Christmas until getting a gift from good old Father Tat.
Christmas
Winter Tree
I didn’t enjoy Christmas. I rarely do. This year had the added ‘bonus’ of me reaching the age my dad died at. I also realised it isn’t Christmas per se that isn’t liked. True, much of it isn’t, like the panic and stress about who goes where and what happens when they’re there, but really it’s that whole time of year weather thing previously mentioned (links below). The meal and all the drinking, any going out and socialising (assuming I can get past the leaving the house bit), I love and can’t ever recall a time of sitting morosely through any of that.
Tomorrow’s Bad News Today
Poetry without comment beyond sincere thanks to Anastasia Shuraeva for the image x
A Terrible Christmas Birthday Tale
Circumstance took me back to the UK just before Christmas; a landmark birthday on it had me stay to spend it with mother, who lives in Chard; a place located in deep and darkest Somerset.
By choice celebrations would start with friends on Christmas Eve; a visit to the pub with a massive Continue reading
London: a Tardis in Reverse
It’s only with hindsight that I realise what a ‘playground‘ London was for me from the mid-eighties (when becoming old enough to do as I pleased) to the late nineties; when changes started running so deep they were impossible to miss and/or ignore.
The Magic of Christmas
Videos of surprised faces as pressies are opened; before and after pics of dinner, the pudding, and various alcoholic drinks likewise. All delivered instantaneously; not shown half-arsed Continue reading
Winter is Coming
Christmas is meant to be full of celebration and joy; for many, though, it can be a dark time brimming with morbidity and doom in a place far from fun and festivity.
Humbug, we say.
Bah humbug!
While calling these people Ebenezer Scrooge.
What the Dickens, then Continue reading
Snowflake’s Delight
It’s Christmas. TV and media are shoving images of lovely things to eat in our faces hand over fist.
As a vegetarian, all this revelling over dead carcasses doesn’t make for fun viewing 😦
Before becoming one, there was a time I didn’t get it for a second; even being known to scoff at, instead of consider the view.
These days I frequently see/hear ‘snowflake‘ used in relation to fellow flesh-dodgers. Continue reading
The Anti-Net
A poem possibly about indecision more than anything else.
N. P. Ryan 