In New Zealand, Christmas comes in summer. Therefore no snow, no toasted chestnuts on the fire and Xmas puddings are not served widely, I mean who would want a flaming dessert on a hot day after a meal that stretches your PUKU (Maori word for stomach) so tight that it can almost circumnavigate the village? So quite a few people opt for a picnic on the beach if it doesn't rain.
But Christmas is a time for giving. Unfortunately to most, it means material giving. Too many unnecessary presents which are the end result of too much panic. I remember my husband darting into a shop on the Eve to buy me a classical cd and handing it to me in its plastic bag. Now that was taking it too far. Or the guy who put a shiny new metal rubbish bin tied with a red bow under the tree for his wife who had mentioned they needed a new bin. He was too thick to understand the shriek that greeted himChristmas morning. Then there is my son who has given me the sobriquet of "Sock and Jock Mum".
SO since last year, I have decided to give to good causes instead. Like an eye operation for someone under the Fred Hollows Foundation, or a goat for some family in South America or Africa. I calulated that if by the end of my remaining years, I have given 25 or 30 pairs of eyesight and similar in goats, I might, just might get past the Pearly Gates without having to confess the rest of my sins.
Merry Christmas everyone, and may next year be a great one for you.