The post-Christmas-post

When I arrived in Portsmouth last weekend, I was stunned. I opened my bedroom door and there were presents all over my bed, and piled in a box by the bed! I spotted my name on a gift tag, and recognised the hand writing. It didn't occur to me right away that there was no reason for such a big pile of presents all for me... and doesn't some of the wrapping paper look familiar? I'm sorry to say my heart sank as I realised quickly that not only were all the presents not for me, but in fact none of them were. I had seen my name on a gift tag because it was one I had written my bloody self, that was also why I recognised the wrapping paper. The pile of gifts were for my brother and his family.

Christmas Day itself brought a modest selection for me -- which is what I wanted. Oddly, I seem to prefer the buying and giving of gifts to the requesting, so when every year I am asked what I want, I rarely know. This might be the same reason why every year we really struggle to get anything out of my Dad as to what he wants -- but I am learning to pick up on things he wants without him realising. Anyway, this year -- like last year, and the year before that -- I asked for my car insurance paid. I could actually afford to pay it myself, since it comes down in price each year at the moment with no claims and a small car, but it's less monthly expense for me.

I actually cheated a little with opening my gifts. Dune had sent me pressies and I decided rather than put them under the tree, I would instead squirrel them away in my bedroom to open on my own when I got home from the pub on Christmas Eve -- since it would then technically be Christmas Day. Accompanying a parcel from Amazon, Dune had taken brief leave of her senses and also posted me a large box -- all the way from Australia. I had noticed some odd items described on the customs label when I got the box, but had quickly decided not to read it so as not to spoil the surprise. What I did saw seemed so obscure that I thought it was probably a ploy to throw me off. Personally, I like to write the customs labels in French -- since nothing specifies what language they have to be in, and I resent having to describe the contents. Sometimes I feel particularly silly and will write on them something like "une petit lapin" or "un bateau". I should stop giving "Angleterre" as my address to people, since I am told it is causing confusion in post offices around the world.

Anyway, under strict instructions I opened the amazon box first -- and was thrilled to find myself now the proud owner of a Zombie Surival Guide. But what on earth was in the box? I tore into the paper to find a modest box labelled "Jay's Zombie Survival Kit" -- and it does exactly what it says on the tin. The kit contains more or less everything you would need to survive -- from matches and a candle, to bandages, antiseptic cream, a torch and... chocolate biscuits. I have long wondered what a tim-tam was, and now I finally know. They look like a penguin. Their inclusion in the kit shows Dune's wilderness survival skills -- obviously the chocolate would inspire the release of feel-good endorphins into your blood stream. The book survival guide is so detailed and thorough it is frightening -- but Dune and I both belong to a Facebook group that says it all: The hardest part of the zombie apocalypse will be pretending I'm not excited. Incidentally, if anyone has ever wondered what Dune would look like as a zombie hunter, click here.

Christmas Day itself was fairly traditional -- a glass of buck's fizz before breakfast, then the opening of presents when we were all showered and dressed. I have learned from experience now not to buy DVDs for my Dad, even if they are films he says he wants -- he never remembers to watch them. I am sure he hasn't unwrapped the plastic from the ones I got him last year. This year, I bought him only one present: a set of wireless stereo headphones. He'd forgotten about it, but he'd expressed an interest in a pair a couple of months back. My Mum had considered getting him golf lessons, since he'd mentioned having lessons again. Like with most things, he never got around to actually committing to doing it -- so Mum went with my suggestion, and bought him a telescope. I have little doubt that my fascination for space comes from my Dad, and I remember at a young age sitting in the cold of the back garden with him, and looking at Mars through a telescope. He's often longed for that old child's telescope since then, so now he has something so much better. And if he doesn't want to use it, you can bet your ass that I am going to camp out in a tent in my back garden and sit out there half the night.

My brother and his family bought me vouchers for River Island, which I had asked for. I was explaining to a girl at work though, I won't use them for a while -- I want to start going to the gym again first and get back into some kind of shape (other than a round shape), so I can fully appreciate the nice clothes I will buy.

I also made good use of Etsy this year for buying handmade. Among other things, I bought my brother a keyring made by REform (which was originally going to be a birthday present for him a couple of months back), bought my sister in law some Christmas Caress bath soaps made by Beadartandbubbles and Dune received a journal handmade by Bombus -- covered with a map of Australia, to remind her of home and record her musings as she travels next year.

Most of the day was largely uneventful -- my parents went to visit some friends of theirs for a couple of hours before lunch, so I stayed home with the cat and read my book. The cat incidentally received from me a new food bowl -- although plain in appearance was quite deep, which is what counts for him. It means he can fit a lot of food in it (important to a cat) and also means he won't splash milk or cream all over the floor when he gets a bowlful as a treat.

As ever, the day itself was too short -- and I think suggestions I have seen of extending it wouldn't be all bad. I know many people (unlike me) didn't have to work Christmas Eve or Boxing Day and so had more than one day off work, but what I think is that the whole celebration should be extended. Not with more gifts, but with the gift giving being dragged out over three days, and more of a sense of a special occasion on the other two days. It seems otherwise that there is a tremendous build up, all for one day, which is over very quickly -- seems to me all the preparation and excitement would be better served by a 3-day festival of sorts.

And yes, Boxing Day I was back at work -- and let me tell you, I have never seen such an assortment of freaks than I did that day. It seems like a gate was left open somewhere and every weirdo in the world made their way into my shop...