Christmas. Doing it My Way. Cards, Christmas Trees and Cuisine

Special walks in the park, wrapped up, hand in hand.

Following on from my last post, I've been thinking more about what I do, and what Mat and I do, to make Christmas special for us. With six sleeps to go until Christmas I have finally got around to getting organised. Ish. Organisation is difficult for people who have bouts of depression because doing anything at all is an effort, as I've said before. This is one of the most irritating contradictions, because doing things that you enjoy (or would usually enjoy if you weren't under the duvet feeling nothingness or just plain sad) actually helps us sufferers feel better. But once I get going, I can remember what feels good, and talk about them here.

I repeat to myself, especially at this time of year.

So here are some things I've been thinking about this week, about Christmas. It gets to me in the end, you see. There are going to be more things to think about and write about: the wonderful books we can read this season and the films, promised in the last blog post. They'll come. But for now, here are three simple things to enjoy in the season, sad or ecstatic, alone or lonely or in a room of the happiest people alive. Bless us all.
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Mini quiches. A true delight!

Enjoy good food, and share it. I love to cook and use cooking creatively to capture my imagination and my taste buds. Christmas food has so many origins and varieties. Favourites are delectable smoked salmon mini quiches with capers - a magical mouthful of creamy filling, smoky fish and the sharp bite of the caper. (Get the recipe and play around with it with Delia for inspiration.) Mince pies are a naughty treat with their buttery, just-crisp-enough pastry (I recommend Marco Pierre White's Lemon Tart pastry for these; the egg in the pastry makes for an additional richness in the pastry, and the lemon zest complements the mince meat with a zing. If you are at all interested in practising mindfulness, may I recommend it this holiday season.

Mince pies with heart shaped pastry

Here is an exercise in living in the moment: hold your mince pie (or whatever little treat you choose) in your hand to feel the texture of the pastry and its warmth in your hand. Smell the mixture of spices and the butter and lemon. Before you taste notice how the scent and the sensation feels, And when you taste hold the food in your mouth before you chew. If you do this with just one mince pie, one peanut butter cookie, or whatever your holiday treat may be, the magic of Christmas food will come alive in your senses.

My first ever attempt at a gingerbread house. Mat ate most of it - eventually - so can't have been that bad!

Remember the ones you love. I am always surprised and delighted by every Christmas card that I receive. At my most ill they always make me cry because right there when I'm in the middle of berating myself for being ill and useless, someone reminds me that they are thinking of me and Mat, and I am overjoyed by this. And crying because it's overwhelming to feel when you felt nothingness before.

A Sheep,  dressed for the weather, sent last year by a great friend

Writing every card this year has been a treasure for me, despite my faulty elbow (still not fixed, now awaiting a screw to replace the looped wires) and wonky back. I read through the cards I have kept from last year; there are some lovely messages and brilliant designs in that. I also keep cards from friends and family no longer with me - and I remember them with love and sadness, that bittersweet combination.I'll tell you about them sometime.

Thank you Mind for my Brussel Sprout e-card. It's been a pleasure working with you.

Decorate a beautiful home. I heard from a few people recently who are having a hard time at home because of our continuing financial problems as a world, and because of losses and hardships. At times like these it doesn't always feel great to be at home; it can feel more like a prison cell if you're trapped with the ghosts who have replaced the people who used to be there, or the things that were their's. And there are all the other times we don't feel ourselves, or feel ill that home - which should be a haven - feels cold and unfriendly. I felt a bit lost at home the other day. Usually I would have started decorating for Christmas much earlier. We had bought a tree a week ago, but it stood unadorned in the living room because I had not found the energy to decorate it. Yet.

Our Christmassy home. Tree. Baubles. Lights. Done.

I started decorating on Thursday. Mat and I have spent Christmas together for the last nine years. It's the best time together and as soon as the box of decorations came down (with Mat's help since I can't lift much more than a white card star) I started to feel what is our magic of the season.

Our tree by night. Beautiful.

We used to have very little cash to spare, and I was teaching high school children 11-16 who probably had more tinsel and tiaras than I could ever imagine; but I picked some simple white card, some glue and some white and silver glitter, and I made what for me were the most beautiful decorations, decorated just with white lights which blur in the night light.

Simple white stars and now white squirrels keeping them company. The tree.

Now we have a menagerie of small stuffed animals to keep us company; we have Christmas music - him - Wizard and Slade (played only once), me Mariah Carey (well, someone else can sing it!) and Chris de Burgh's A Spaceman Came Travelling.

The menagerie. Wishing you all a happy Christmas.

The star on the top of the Christmas tree is that Mat and I were married near to Christmas. Our wedding anniversary was yesterday. Four years married and nine years together and my best friend and beloved husband and I still feel like celebrating our togetherness. Honestly. He is the best gift of all.

Us on our wedding day. We're shy so we're playing the piano to avoid the cameras.

So that's me in the last few sleeps till Christmas. Tomorrow is our big family reunion, when we'll get together and exchange news and a few gifts. I'm looking forward to seeing the children rushing around the room. Well, I say that. I'm looking forward to it for about five minutes. And then I might have a bit of a headache and Mat will certainly need a lie down. But that's tomorrow, and maybe you'll hear about that next week.

Stay healthy out there. A lovely Christmas week to you all.

Tis the season to be...whatever you wish. Make your Christmas happy. Your way.

En route to a Christmas Party, with a smile. See, I'm not all Scrooge.

I've been a bit miserable about the Christmas season recently, I've realised, mostly because I do find lots of things about this time of year very hard and getting through it is a challenge. It's not easy being depressed and feeling like you have to go out and about whilst miserable in the presence of everyone else being jolly. However, although it's true that I'm hardly a saintly Tiny Tim about the whole affair, nor am I a curmudgeonly Scrooge pulling down his nightgown and ignoring the fact that the stairs sound as if they're in the midst of a marathon steel band session.

Tiny Tim teaches us all a lesson about accepting people and seeing the good in them

Actually there are lots of things I love about Christmas, especially now that we've got into the ironic spirit (pun intended) of the thing properly. Sincerity is strictly reserved for good will to all men: the part about loving one another and "God (or the higher power of your choice) bless us every one" is the only part I really get on board with from that perspective. In my view Christmas is what you want to make of it. And in my view that's spending time with ones I love. And irony. And food.

This would be fine, except clearly this woman is taking the whole thing DEADLY SERIOUSLY

When I lived in America I spent a memorable Halloween in Southfield, Michigan, where I was working at the time. I was amazed as I went to my beloved (and much missed) local Chipotle to see cars pulling up as usual, but emerging from them not the casually dressed office workers I usually saw in line ahead of me, but instead, a pirate, a teddy bear and some sort of fairy princess. Yes, Halloween in America is a Whole Other Proposition. We've all seen the films of adorable little darlings parading the streets in their cute miniature spaceman or cowboy outfits, a sort of Toy Story Comes To Life parody; but adults? I could hardly believe what I was seeing.

Home Alone Lives in Ironic Christmas Jumpers. LOVE

Of course, this is a country which loves its candy, so I don't know why I was as surprised as all that, but I was quite shocked by the lengths to which people would go to dress up and embrace the 'holiday' which carries such little weight in the UK and elsewhere. We find sincerity of this type quite the challenge in the UK. But last Friday in Britain, we had a holiday we as a nation can all, just about, with all our 'I'd like to but really it's terribly embarrassing and I couldn't possibly' reserve, get on board with: Christmas Jumper Day. Or, as I like to think of it, dress-like-your-mum-and-dad-would-have-in-the-seventies,-except-without-a-hint-of-irony day. I have to admit that this title does not quite have the same ring to it.

Lampooning. Irony. Except that in reality families like these really exist in a suburb near you

I spent Christmas in the USA with a great friend in 2003. As we went to buy our Christmas feast we marvelled at the lack of irony of the earnest shoppers all around us in their not quite ridiculous enough 'seasonal sweaters'. I'm talking about the single coloured-jobby with the white patterned reindeer dancing across the front. Or with big stars covering bigger bellies. Surely these people realised that they looked like extras from Home Alone? Apparently not. And Britain being Britain, we couldn't possibly engage in a jolly jape like Christmas jumper day without it being obvious that we're doing the whole thing for a proper giggle, and aren't taking ourselves seriously in the slightest.

Pigs in blankets. Nomnomnomnomnom.

So, back to what I love about Christmas. Food, obviously. And specific types of food at specific times. These have become a tradition with me. Crazy meatballs for Christmas eve dinner, slow cooked pork meatballs with cranberry sauce, brown sugar and sauerkraut mixed up and made into a sttick sauce, baked in the oven while my husband races around the nearest high streets frantically panic buying despite the fact that he's probably already bought better presents than I have anyway; Smoked salmon and (lumpfish, I'm not a millionaire!) caviar on tiny blinis with sour cream and a deliciously cold glass of Champagne to start Christmas day. Some sort of meat for Christmas dinner - I'm not at fussy about this actually, as long as it's not turkey, but with stuffing, port and cranberry-sauce braised red cabbage and as many little sausages with bacon as can be bought in a single trip to Marks and Spencer. And probably pommes Dauphinoise. Cream + potatoes = winning formula.

Mulled wine. Christmas dessert and hot water bottle in one

We sometimes go to a local pub for a Christmas drink on the day. This is one of my favourite times to go out in public, as I love to watch other people enjoying their day and one another's company. This seems like a special way to mark the day, and the neutral ground helps. The weekend before Christmas, my extended family and I come together for a Christmas feast and sharing of silly presents and jokes. Everyone dresses up and we enjoy a catch up and seeing the younger members of the family having fun on the day.

As mentioned in a comment in my previous blog, I don't hold that you have to spend Christmas with your family to be happy. In fact for many that would be a recipe for unhappiness, where resentments long-harboured, traditions which are upheld in the absence of any civil tongues, or where presents are shared with expectations of larger and more expensive offerings to make up for any real warmth or love in the room. That is a traditional Christmas for many, and I don't like it one bit.

One's onesie

My latest Christmas love is the onesie. Ah, the onesie, unattractive in most ways, but warm, snug and comfortable to wear. This is my perfect Christmas outfit. I also love the fact that I don't have to leave the house. I used to wear a variety of Christmas jumpers and pyjamas (and probably a hat too) that Mat will proclaim adorable despite the fact that I wouldn't even be allowed on Jeremy Kyle in such an ensemble. Now I can climb into my onesie and I'm done for the day. Just add woolly socks and my Ugg boots and I'm ready for the Christmas film marathon, sitting in front of our real Christmas tree decorated with tiny white lights and white card stars, shimmering with their gold and silver glitter in the soft lights.

 The films are probably worth a blog post to themselves, so I'll think about that over the next few days. In the meantime I'll take my Christmas radio times, bought once a year, and start circling my Christmas viewing timetable. Home Alone will definitely be on at some point, I bet.