Tag: xmas

7 Reasons That I Won’t Be Sending My Christmas Cards Until Christmas Eve

It’s almost Christmas and one of the aspects of the festival that I hate the most is writing Christmas cards. But I’ve come up with a cunning plan for dealing with them. This year, I won’t be sending any Christmas cards out until Christmas Eve. Here are seven reasons why.

1. Space. When you’re buying your stamps or posting your cards, the post office on Christmas Eve is a far more convivial atmosphere than the post office on December 18^th. When I’m posting my cards tomorrow, I’m going to be alone, with just the post office staff wearing their Santa hats and antlers, and eating their mince pies, (which they’ll probably share with me). And, instead of being stuck in a long mazy queue of grey people coughing, I’m going to have space to stretch my arms out and spin around. And that’s what I’m going to do; just because I can. And because it’s less cruel than swinging a cat.

2. Time. Leaving the cards until the last minute will have other benefits too. Had I written my cards early I’d have spent lots of time writing them out neatly, but I didn’t do that this year, and now that Christmas Eve is almost upon us, I’m doing the Christmas cards as a rush job. So that’s a lot less time that I’ve spent writing cards: Time that I was able to use more productively. I didn’t obviously, I spent it mulling things and playing Angry Birds. I also photoshopped a hat onto the statue of liberty. But it’s still time saved.

3. Inclusivity. It’s more inclusive if I send my cards on Christmas Eve. After all, I’m notoriously forgetful, but I know who I’ve received a card from because there’s a bushel of them in the living room. Or a gross. Or a flock (I have no idea how quantities of cards are measured), so it’s easy enough for me to work out who’s sent them and reply. So if you’ve sent me a card, you’ll get one in return: And if you haven’t, then you won’t. Obviously if anyone else is using the same system as me then that’s unfortunate, but if they are, that would benefit the…

4. Environment. That the Christmas cards I’ve sent won’t be received until after Christmas is good for the planet. Because no one sends out a Christmas card after Christmas, so people won’t send out any cards in reply to mine. So there’ll be less wasted paper, and I’ll have less recycling to do in January. Which is great, as the first recycling day of the New Year is usually like some sort of glass-themed labour of Hercules, but without Hercules and starring me instead.

5. Blame. And no one even need know that their cards weren’t sent until Christmas Eve (unless they’re reading this. Damn) because what’s the default opinion on the Royal Mail in this country? It’s that they’re hapless and inefficient. That’s not strictly true. Most of the time, they’re dedicated people doing a fine, and quite thankless, job, but they’ll automatically get the blame for the tardy arrival of my cards anyway. But that’s their problem and I don’t mind using it to my advantage. After all, I’ve never been stupid enough to change my name to Consignia and they have.

6. How To Win Friends And Influence People. When no card arrives before Christmas, friends, family and acquaintances will probably think “The bastard! He hasn’t sent us a folded over piece of paper with a picture of a fat, bearded man on the front and some illegible scrawl within! How could he do this to me?” But then, when the card turns up a few days after Christmas (“bloody post office”) they’ll feel loved and wanted again. And they’ll feel bad for thinking ill of me, which they’ll probably compensate for by being even more well-disposed toward me than usual. So if I keep doing this every Christmas, people will eventually feel so much affection for me that they will probably erect statues of me when I’m in my old age. I could get canonized! I could become the next Princess Diana!*

7. Finances. I won’t need to buy cards until the last minute, by which time I’ll know exactly how many I need. So none will be wasted. So I’ll be saving money. That’s money that I can spend on other Christmas things like candles that get brought out once a year that nobody ever lights, or those owl baubles that my wife saw (because nothing says Christmas more than a rodent-terrorising bird of prey hanging from a tree). By leaving the cards until the last moment, I’m going to be better off financially, and I’m going to benefit in many, many other ways too. I’m a genius! A mean genius. I’m a meanius!

*But my mother-in-law won’t be on the stamps.

December 23, 2010
Guest Post: 7 Reasons For Fake Christmas Trees

It is fair to say that there wasn’t a lot of fakery about the 7 Reasons HQ up until today – except maybe the dancing girls and the tiramisu tap – but that has rather suddenly changed. Today we find the 7 Reasons sofa in a forest. A fake forest. A fake forest of Christmas trees. And it’s all the work of today’s guest-writer, Andrew Norton. He likes them. And quite reasonably too.

Fake, fake, fake fake, fake.

A common thread in many of these 7 reasons lists seems to be idleness – you should do this or that because it is easier, or quicker or less hassle and so on. In keeping with this and for the sake of avoiding having to think too hard, I will proudly use the same rhetoric here.

1. Laziness. Artificial Christmas trees genuinely are the laziest, easiest, least hassling component of the entire Christmas period bar none. Not all fake trees are this simple I grant you, but there are pop-up Christmas trees that exist that literally jump into action, pre lit and decorated. All you have to do is find enough time and energy to rise out of a chair or bed long enough to get the tree out of the box, plug it in and switch it on. 1-0.

2. Rashes. This one might not cover everybody and I accept that, but there are a lot of people allergic to pretty much everything Christmas has to offer be it nuts, fake beards or pine needles. If you are one of those people, the festive period need not be a time of rashes and annaphallactic shock. When it comes to your Christmas tree – get an artificial one. Unless you’re allergic to plastic as well, in which case you might want to think about creating your own tree out of baby wipes, pipe cleaners and moisturiser. However, chances are that a wily Santa will mistake it for a pile of junk and leave you only the dust, fluff and crumbs that gather in the folds of his enormous Christmas sack. That is not a euphemism by the way.

3. Needles. Obvious one this, but most certainly true. The biggest pain about going into a forest, removing a tree and bringing it back into the house is that it continues to behave like a tree and very much like one that is dying. It drops its needles everywhere as a result. And they are called ‘needles’ for a reason, just ask your cat once it has finished trying to dislodge one from its larynx. They get everywhere and need to constantly be hoovered up from the giant sticklebrick that they make of your carpet. Not to mention the collection you will find on the bottom of your socks – I guarantee it.

4. They’re Identical. OK, so just stop and think for a minute about what you are doing this time of year – taking a tree from outside where it belongs, cutting it down and bringing it into your house so that you can precariously balance it in an ill-fitting stand, cover it in fragile decorations and light it up to make it pretty and sparkly. While that is fun it is also pretty laborious and ridiculous. When questioned about it by aliens or foreigners, you will tell them you do it “just coz that’s what we do”. At least save yourself accusations of madness by admitting that it is crazy and get a fake tree that looks identical to a real one. You can then argue that it is a symbol of a symbol, a postmodern ornament in reference to a pre-modern tradition. Make sense? Thought not. Just get a fake tree.

5. Religion. Had you forgotten that Christmas has anything to do with Christianity? May I take this chance to remind you that the whole reason we have Christmas trees is because a few hundred years ago St. Boniface though it would be funny to go and chop down a sacred tree devoted to the Norse gods in order to disprove the Nordic faith by remaining unscathed from their deities’ wrath. He even brought it into the house and made a display out of it. Well, if you are Christian you can continue the tradition with an artificial tree just as well as a real one. If you are an atheist or agnostic you can remove yourself from the actions of St. Boniface because unlike him you bought yours from a shop that had absolutely nothing to do with Norse gods and is not imbued with any sacred life force.

6. Reusable. So Christmas is over and the stick in your living room devoid of needles looks like a shaved cat wearing bangle earrings. Are you happy now? Did you think to get one that comes in a pot and can go in your garden? No? Well, I suppose you’ll throw it away or get it chipped. Yes, it may return to the earth from whence it came and that’s great. But so will an artificial tree. Well – in that you get it down from the attic each year and then when you’re done it returns to whence it came. They just pack back up into a box and ‘hibernate’ like all the other things you forget you own up in the forgotten world of sleeping curios in the loft.

7. Choice. Trees are green and are made of wood. The end. Artificial trees are all singing, all dancing magical constructions that take anything a real tree can do and then go one further. What’s more they are the tree equivalent of John C. Reily. They, like he, can play it straight or for laughs to equal aplomb. Remember him as the doomed fisherman in a Perfect Storm? That’s an artificial tree playing the part of a traditional Nordman Fir – compelling, believable and a joy to watch. Remember John going full slapstick with Will Ferrell in Step Brothers? That’s an artificial tree giving it as a pre-lit pop-up fibre optic mutli-coloured festive grotto in a box. Beat that real tree.

December 18, 2010
7 Reasons Not to Leave Wrapping Your Presents Until Christmas Eve

Leaving your gift-wrapping until the last-minute is never a good idea. Here are seven reasons why.

Jonathan always uses paper bearing the traditional Christmas gift horse.

1. Reminders. The last thing you want to be doing is sitting in the study wrapping – while rapping along to Wham! – when your loved one knocks on the door and laughs, ‘I hope you haven’t bought me that handbag!’ You look down to see a pair of thick, woolen Rudolph socks. Oh no! She (or he) wanted that handbag. You look at your watch. It’s 5pm. There is no way you can make it to John Lewis now. If only you’d started wrapping on Tuesday. She (or he) could have reminded you then and you could have rectified the situation. Now you’re are going to have to steal one of her (or his) handbags and wrap that up. With the socks inside. Then you’re going to have to get her (or him) really, quite drunk.

2. Paper. However much wrapping paper you buy, it is never enough. It doesn’t matter if you raid your local WHSmith and buy every single roll going, it will never be enough. It’s one of those stupid Christmas rules. Come 11pm on Christmas Eve you have two presents left and no paper. Which is why come Christmas Day many are presented with a gift wrapped in a House Of Fraser bag. Or some printer paper. Or the Daily Telegraph. Though in that particular case I suppose the present was a copy of The Daily Telegraph. Some people like sudukos. The solution is simple*, wrap your presents before Christmas Eve, then when you run out you can go and buy another roll. It works. Though given you wrapped up days in advance you’ll probably have bought six rolls too many. Still, that’s Christmas for you.

3. Sellotape. Because you have no idea where the Sellotape is kept, and you’ll have to ask your partner where it is. And they’ll know that you’ve left wrapping their present until the last minute. And you’ll know that they know. And they’ll know that you know that they know. And you’ll know that they know that you know that they know that you know that they…no, I’ve forgotten. It definitely involved guilt, stationery and repercussions though.

4. Celebration. Christmas Eve is a festival in and of itself. And, having celebrated copiously and extravagantly, the last thing you want to be doing is staggering home in the snow to wrap your presents as, by this point, you may well have imbibed more mulled wine and port than…well…anyone else. Ever. Essentially wrapping presents in this state is a tiresome chore which soon degenerates into screwing large sheets of paper round random objects, with only one eye open and your tongue poking out with concentration while you lie on your side on the dining room floor. It also leads to…

5. Breakages. And you don’t want to break things on Christmas Eve. You don’t want to break yourself because it’s busy at the hospital and having to drive you there is annoying to your friends and family. And you certainly don’t want to break the expensive and fragile blue glass vase that constitutes your then-girlfriend’s main present at 11:30pm on Christmas Eve because it’s too late to replace it. So you’re left with a choice: You either wrap up the remains anyway and express shock and surprise that it’s broken when she opens it the following day, or you explain to her that you broke it while you were wrapping it because you blacked out for a moment while looking at a mince pie and fell off the chair. I chose the former option, naturally.

6. Garages. Despite what people may believe, a garage is not a limitless Santa’s grotto. The flowers are usually gone by lunchtime on Christmas Eve, the Chocolate Oranges by 4pm and the CDs of Cliff Richard’s Greatest Hits by 6pm. So what are you going to do when at 9pm you begin to wrap up your lover’s presents only to realise that he/she has bought you double the number? You can’t get a box of fire-lighters. They still have some left from last year. A free car-wash seems futile given that the car will get dirty again driving back. A new can of petrol is a fire hazard under the tree. A pint of skimmed milk lacks the festive spirit. You’re going to be screwed. So don’t do it. Don’t wrap on Christmas Eve.

7. Americans. For some reason best known to themselves, many Americans open their presents (which they insist upon calling gifts) on Christmas Eve. But what if you have an American coming over? Because if you haven’t wrapped your presents by Christmas Eve, muddleheaded ex-colonial types will want to open them before you’ve done so. And you know what will happen if they do that? They’ll just be removing stuff from boxes. All of the boxes. Because they won’t know which boxes are for them because they won’t have labels on because you won’t have done the labels because, let’s face it, if you haven’t done your wrapping by Christmas Eve you’re hardly likely to have made gift labels, are you? So your house will just be full of Americans removing all of your boxed-possessions and taking them. It would be like being burgled, except you’d have to give the burglars your mulled wine and make small talk with them while they burgled you, spelled things badly and insisted that science isn’t a real thing. And if that image hasn’t motivated you to wrap your presents right now, nothing will.

*Not the solution to the sudoku. Those bloody things are impenetrable.

December 17, 2010
Guest Post: 7 Reasons That Christmas ALWAYS Gets Me in the End

It’s Saturday, and the 7 Reasons team have abandoned the sofa in order to rush, blinking out into the sunlight like pit-ponies escaping from their daily labour. But, fear not, for the sofa is in safe hands. Guest hosting this week is the lovely Liz Gregory – that’s right, her of Things to do in Manchester fame – who despite being from Manchester, isn’t going to prattle on about Coronation Street, she’s going to talk about Christmas. Now settle down, children, and she’ll begin.

Every year it’s the same. I roll my eyes at those poor souls who have done all their present shopping by August; I can tut as cynically as anyone at the Christmas songs repeated on an endless, hideous loop in certain shops from the beginning of November. I am a grown woman with a full time job, and the shameless commercial enterprise that is Christmas has no place in my busy and important lifestyle. But by December, I’m hooked, brimming with festive excitement. Again. Here’s why….

1. The weather. Surely even the most hardened and wizened of souls must admit that nothing looks more enticingly festive than a fresh coating of snow, with the power to wipe out an ugly urban landscape of wheelie bins and cat poo, and replace it with pristine perfection. And I say this despite the fact that I am seemingly the only teacher in the UK not to have received a single snow day in the recent bad weather – I have had to go to work and perform the job for which I am paid EVERY SINGLE DAY.

2. Rosy-cheeked children. No, not the bratty whiny ones running amok in the supermarket trying to grab everything in sight – they are the ones to avoid if you’re trying to be misty-eyed and non-cynical about Christmas. I mean the angelic ones who assemble at Christmas lights switch-ons, warbling traditional festive songs and obligingly going “ooohhh” when the lights are turned on.

3. The Christmas Radio Times. I take enormous comfort in the fact that even though we live in a high-tech, culturally diverse society where we celebrate individuality and cutting-edge modernity, at least fifty percent of the UK will have spent the last week leafing through the Christmas Radio Times, armed with a marker pen, drawing wonky circles around the plethora of bad television they wish to watch this Yuletide. The fact that you will only actually watch three of these programmes is entirely besides the point – the pleasure lies in the selection, not the viewing.

4. Alcohol. One of the overwhelming perks of December is that it becomes socially acceptable to consume alcohol at virtually any time of day without anyone raising their eyebrows and calling you an alky. So that means sherry at elevenses is fine, as is bucks fizz at breakfast and Amaretto Sours at lunch. I do not, of course, live like this at other times of the year.

5. Decorations. Yes, Nigella is annoying, but I do admire the fact that her house (or her studio-masquerading-as-house, one is never quite sure) appears to be permanently bedecked with fairy lights. I am not brave enough to try to convince my husband that this is acceptable all year round, which means I must make the most of the carte blanche that Christmas brings. Turn the big light off, switch the fairy lights on, and hey presto! Your house instantly looks clean and tidy in the murky pixie gloom.

6. Food. I am by nature a most abstemious person, unlikely to over-indulge in any way, but the range of tasty morsels positively flung one’s way at this time of year makes it impossible to refuse. As with the alcohol, it is de rigueur to adjust one’s notions of what acceptably constitutes a balanced meal – as long as you select items from both the savoury AND the sweet party food ranges, you should be absolutely fine.

7. Two weeks off. I enjoy my job, and by anyone’s standards, working in a college in the run up to Christmas must surely be as good a place to be as any. Giant tins of Quality Street lurk at every turn, and teaching English means that the final week offers plenty of chances to watch Wuthering Heights and eat popcorn. And yet, the prospect of two weeks off, spent lolling on the sofa, opening the odd present and reverting to a lifestyle where your mum brings you a cup of tea in bed in the morning, is surely something to be cherished.

So, if anyone fancies a mince pie or three in the semi-gloom of my Nigella kitchen I’ll see you shortly; only visitors bearing sherry will be admitted, mind.

December 11, 2010
7 Reasons to Send a Christmas Card

1. Self promotion. Every year, Michael Winner sends out a Christmas card that promotes him, his books and his television show. He’ll send it to any of the readers of his Winner’s Dinners column in the Sunday Times who send him their address. Would you want Michael Winner to have your address? What if he came to visit? What if he told you to “calm down, dear”? The best case scenario is that you’ll get something with a picture of Michael Winner on it. Repeatedly having your middle-toe hit with a hammer is a better case scenario than that.

2. Comedy. If you send a Christmas card without a stamp on, your friend may be forced to go miles to his local post office to pay for the postage. When he phones up to complain, you can tell him that you’ll reimburse him for the amount he was charged, and send him a cheque in an envelope without a stamp on it, forcing him to go back to the post office and pay the excess postage once more. This actually happened to a friend of mine. I was the culprit. The following year I sent him a CD in a box large enough to accommodate an average-sized refrigerator, knowing he would be out at the time of delivery, forcing him to go back to the post office once more. I am a bad man.

3. Cheque. You might want to send a cheque as a Christmas present, and what better place to put it than inside a Christmas card? As you slide the cheque into the card, you can imagine the recipient’s beaming face as they gratefully receive their gift. Obviously, this is not what happens in the real world. The standard reaction to receiving a cheque is to stare at it blankly for several seconds before exclaiming “A cheque! What is this, the dark ages?” The recipient, used to the wonder that is internet banking, will have to go into town and trudge round for ages, attempting to find a branch of their bank that hasn’t closed down. It will probably rain on them while they’re doing this. They will be cold, they will be wet, they will be tired, they will complain about the experience on the internet. They will not be grateful.

4. Handwriting. A Christmas card is your annual opportunity to handwrite something. It’s surprising how hard it is when you’re out of practice, and it’s surprising how tired your hand gets. My cards look like they were written by a messy child when I start them, and a messy child’s dog by the time I finish.

5. Newsletter. Unbelievably, there are people out there who don’t have blogs. These people will sometimes try to impart a whole years worth of family news in a newsletter contained within the Christmas card. These soporific missives usually contain tedious accounts of the summer holiday in Bermuda, Trevor’s hectic year at the office (who knew there was so much to write about human resources?) and Melanie’s second year at Bath (minus all of the interesting bits, as she hasn’t passed those on to her parents). You can send your own newsletter in a card too, containing your description of how you invented the iPob (a portable device to store and play classic children’s television programmes), a torrid account of your affair with Jennifer Aniston and some pictures from your holiday on the moon. You can write anything you want in a newsletter, no one reads them.

6. Protest. When you send a Christmas card you can use a special Christmas stamp without a picture of the Queen on it. Replacing The Queen with a reindeer is one in the eye for the oppressive monarchical hierarchy, and it would also give Prince Philip somewhere to hang his hat.

7. It’s nice. Obviously there are some sad, lonely people out there who might not expect to receive any Christmas cards. It’s not nice to think of anyone not receiving a card so it’s heartening to remember that Jan Moir can actually go out and post a Christmas card to herself.

December 21, 2009
7 Reasons to Shop Online

1. Queues. Sometimes, shops are busy and there are long queues. Having spent the previous ten minutes standing in a queue for the checkout, many people are taken by surprise when they are asked for money. Once they get over the shock of this unanticipated event, they proceed to spend an inordinate amount of time fumbling for cash, cards or vouchers in their pocket, wallet or handbag (sometimes all three), thus making everyone else’s wait in the queue even longer. Approximately 50% of the people in the queue will do this. When an online shop is busy, their servers are sometimes slow, which causes pages to load slowly. This gives you time to practice drumming on the desk or to sing show-tunes from Fiddler on the Roof which, on balance, is better than murdering idiots in Borders.

2. Scary Man.

I saw this man at the shops.

3. Creativity. If you have too much beer, you can’t go shopping. You tend to stumble about, get distracted and forget things. You may even fall over or get asked to leave the shop. When shopping online though, drunkenness is a virtue, as it lowers our inhibitions and brings our creative tendencies to the fore. In the same way that all of the best ideas happen in the pub (and are sadly often forgotten), all the best shopping ideas occur when under the influence. Why buy your partner perfume or aftershave, lingerie or underpants in a shop when you can have a few beers and get them a pan in the shape of a fried egg, a map of New Zealand, an illuminated bust of Beethoven and a biography of Charles Lindbergh? You can also get yourself a new bicycle while you’re at it.

4. Happy cat. When you have to go to the shop for groceries, you tend to pick up a couple of tins of cat food at a time. When you shop online, you stock up. The monthly online grocery shop is like Christmas for cats.

5. Attire. When you visit the shops, you have to dress normally, or people will point at you and security guards may follow you around. When you’re shopping online, however, you can wear whatever you want. If you’re fond of hats, you can wear a pith helmet, a Davy Crockett hat, a top hat or a straw boater without feeling at all self-conscious. If you’re not fond of hats, you can wear whatever costume you like. You could dress up as a Louis XVI or a pirate – you could even dress up as a bear, though this might hamper your ability to use the keyboard and may cause you to order too much salmon.

6. Teenagers. The over-made-up 15 year girl at the Superdrug checkout who hates you for reasons that you don’t understand doesn’t scowl at you, and sigh when you tell her that you don’t require a bag, when you shop online. You may not recall treading on her puppy but at some point during a transaction with her, you will wonder if you have.

7. Christmas. When you shop online your senses aren’t assaulted by gaudy decorations, flashing lights, glittery stuff or baubles, unless that’s what your own home looks like, in which case you probably won’t mind. You will not bang your head on all of the decorations which were hung from the ceiling by an inconsiderate short-arse (for blind people this is a serious issue) and you will not have to listen to Stop The Cavalry once, let alone thirty times. I hate Stop The Cavalry so much that I’m tempted to write Stop The Stop The Cavalry. I probably will do, in a queue in a shop while waiting for people who’ve just discovered that they need to exchange money for goods.

December 7, 2009