It is, apparently, 113 days until Christmas. At the time of writing, that is. Alarmingly, should you be catching up on the Daily Blog following a short (or long) absence, that number may well be far fewer.
Every day makes a significant difference.
Believe me, I am not trying to (I) scare you; (ii) irritate you; or (iii) introduce a note
of festive-related panic into your life. I am merely stating a fact and one, moreover, of which the Twins, Tala and Lilia, appear oblivious. With 113 days to go, the pair of them are completely obsessed with Christmas.
Every picture they draw me these days incorporates a Christmas tree, complete with baubles dangling from the end of every branch and a star on top. In a nod to 2020,
both add rainbows to their drawings. I am impressed that they remember so much about Christmas trees until I recall that these are two members of the Rascally Trio, all of whom possess the most amazing memories.
Certainly, judging by our recent conversations, they can remember every detail about previous Christmases they have spent with their Grandad and me. “Will we be coming to your house
at Christmas?” they ask continually. It is a question clearly expecting the answer “yes.”
I decide it would
be sensible not to share with them the joke currently doing the rounds on social media. You know the one I mean - the one that informs the reader that Christmas 2020 will be deferred until the middle of January, given the requirement for Santa Claus to quarantine
for fourteen days on entry to the country. Being pedantic, and bearing in mind that the Big Man visits a great many countries over the course of his annual gig, he will be lucky if he doesn’t have to go into splendid isolation many times over. It may,
indeed, be next Christmas before he gets round to us. What does this mean for Christmas 2020?
The Twins have no such worries - they
have great faith that all will be well Christmas-wise but, just in case, they need to ensure that I am equally well prepared.
in March when we all went into Lockdown, there appeared to be every expectation that, as in the early days of the Great War, it would all be over by Christmas - and we all know what happened, or rather, didn’t happen, back in 1914. Today it seems we
may have to prepare for a different kind of Christmas...
A trip to the pantomime, for example, has long been part of the festive programme
for all our grandchildren at one time or another but checking with something called the “Big Panto Guide” it seems there are no pantomime performances planned across the whole of West Sussex where we live. Oh, no there aren’t! The Guide,
moreover, provides a dispiritingly long list of cancelled panto performances across the country. Where is Jack’s magic beanstalk when we need it?
Will we be able to have our usual family gatherings around the dining room table, with Christmas crowns and crackers to pull? Or will we all have to sit in chilly splendour outside in the back garden, socially distanced and wearing masks decorated with
pictures of Santa? Will we all have to bring our own turkeys to the feast?
I am trying to think of Christmas traditions that
can be made Covid Secure. Will it be safe, for example, for the reindeer to share a carrot or will we have to leave each of them a specially labelled carrot bearing their name? Will we even be able to remember all their names?
I think I must take a leaf out of the Twins’ book and assume that Christmas, when it comes, will be as special and as magical as always.
You know it makes sense...