Family:
I’m sure most people would have this at the top of their list. It’s not until we’re all gathered back at home – school or college have broken up, work is finished and shopping is done, that the festivities really begin.
The Garden on Sparrow Street
Presents:
Having all the presents finally wrapped and under the tree (usually Christmas Eve, because I’m sooooo organised) means I can finally settle to some Christmas telly with the family.
The Radio Times:
The bulging, thick-enough-to-use-as-a-spare-housebrick, festive edition of the Radio Times is something I can remember clearly my mum buying when I was a kid. We’d sit and pore over it for hours and circle all the shows we wanted to watch. Nowadays we can check all the schedules online, of course, but where’s the fun in that? You can’t sit with your lilac felt tip and put a wobbly line around the time of latest James Bond flick online, can you? So we still buy it, even though we don’t need to, and there’s something reassuring about it that means, once it’s in the house, the real countdown to Christmas has begun.
My daughter’s mince pies:
My teenage daughter has been making these since she was eleven or twelve. She’s eighteen now but still makes a batch every Christmas, and it just isn’t Christmas without a tin. They’re the best mince pies I’ve ever had, which is funny because she really can’t cook anything else!
Quality Street:
A few days before Christmas a huge tin of Quality Street chocolate gets snuck in with the shopping. We don’t need them, have usually eaten ourselves too sick over Christmas lunch to want them, but they still come out every Christmas night, regardless. One year, on a health kick, I told my husband not to buy them, and then spent Christmas evening feeling like there was something seriously missing! I never did that again!
The after-lunch walk:
We always go out some time in the afternoon on Christmas Day, after our huge lunch, just to blow out the cobwebs and try to get moving – mostly to make room for our supper (and those Quality Street won’t eat themselves!). It’s become such a tradition I hate missing it now.
Drunk dancing in the kitchen:
This usually comes after lunch but before the after lunch walk. By the time we’ve had lunch and I’m trying to clear away I’m usually a little bit tipsy from all the wine we had with our meal, so we’ll put on whatever music we’ve had for Christmas (over the years it’s gone from records to CDs to downloads) and dance around to it as we clear up. What better way to stave off the monotony of washing a teetering pile of crockery after your turkey? And, once again, we’re making room for those Quality Street!