It's beginning to seem a lot like Christmas

As far as months go, December is not my favourite.

I like May. It's autumn, I can buy new ugg boots and make soup. I quite like September too, with flowers everywhere. January's my favourite month of course because we can escape Bogan-ville-ea and go to the beach. Brad the Tradie even calls me 'January Wifey' because he reckons I turn back into a real person for a whole month each year.

Then there's December. Blech. In Bogan-ville-ea, December is crunchy-grumpy-rushy month. The hot winds dry off any semblence of green growth. Everyone is hot, grumpy and trying to get stuff done, be it end of year reports, Christmas shopping, packing, concerts, whatever. December's a big, hot, grumpy rush.

I get Organica to do my Christmas presents each year. She makes them, wraps them, tags them and delivers them to my door. She also does all of Brad the Tradie's corporate cards and gifts. Organica actually knows my Christmas list better than me:
Me (whine, whine...): Organnnnnicaaaaaaa....can you do my Chrissie stuff again this year?
Organica: Yeah darl. What theme are we doing?
Me: ummm... what was last year?
Organica: Chocolate mocha. How about a fruity one this year?
Me: OK. Noice.
Organica: List the same??
Me: Yeah... do I have any new friends?
Organica: What about the tank lady?
Me: Yeah.
Organica: And a few extra things, for people you always forget, like Dr D , you never have enough for the people at work and you should get something for the neighbours that look after the pets when you go to the beach.

Then I just have to buy for Organica, the O.S's (overseas people) and the BHG. And I do that either online or in one trip to Target. Oh and a couple of duck, pig and dung cards from Oxfam. And a box of organic fruit &veg for my mother. And a few giftcards for dad and other people. And.... it fecking well goes ON AND ON doesn't it?

What's the story with shopping centres in December?
It's PAINFUL! From the piped happy music in the carpark about Santa and snow and all things HAPPY to the blow-up Frosty the Snowman at Hot Dollar, it's all a bit too festive for moi. 'Festy' more like it. Each year I wander past the Reject Shop noticing the delightful treats I'll be receiving in a few week's time.

I used to like Christmas.
When you didn't have to have a 'theme' for your tree (purple & silver? red & gold?) and families would just get together and bring either a salad or a dessert (for the record, my specialty is 'salad in a bag' - prepackaged kind) and you could fill your kid's stocking for under fifty bucks (NO, you are not getting an iTunes card, NO you are not getting a laptop, NO you are not getting a plasma tele - it won't fit in the stocking for a start kid!)

When I was a Bush Bogan everyone would save their two litre milk cartons to put a candle in and line the footpath with. I'd sit on the front verandah wearing reindeer ears playing Chrissie toons on my electronic keyboard (yes, like Ross on Friends, I was THAT KID). We'd get a tree from the bush, because that wasn't considered 'killing the planet' back then, and just decorate it with food and the old tinsel from the box in the cupboard. I'd spend the last month of school making daggy presents for my rello's and spend each night looking forward to my stocking on Christmas morning with a packet of textas, a tube of condensed milk ALL for me, new undies, a craft kit and a box of darrell lea soft centres. We'd all have a Barbie lunch, a kilo of prawns and some pav. Then I'd settle in and watch American TV specials and wonder at such Northern Hemisphere treats as eggnog, snow, iceskating with mittens and kissing under mistletoe. Ahhhh, the serenity.

When did Christmas get so out of control?
The only thing worth looking forward to about Christmas now is the Boxing Day Test. When everyone just leaves you alone to drink and watch the cricket. Apparently these days you have to be finished your shopping by about August to avoid the Christmas rush. And what's with all those tragic looking Santas all over the Westfields? The kids are screaming, the parents are fighting and Santa looks like he wants Diazapam for Christmas. There are entire magazines devoted to Christmas feasts (101 ways with calamari... mmmm....). It's no wonder people up sticks and take off to the coast.

Brad the Tradie 'doesn't do Christmas'. I like that about him. He's agnostic too. So we don't have to go to mass or anything. He likes nothing more than a bit of home D.I.Y. on Christmas morning, followed by a kilo of prawns (some traditions never die...), a mango on the back lawn and a Foxtel Marathon with the air-con blasting.

Bah - humbug. Bring on January.