A family affair

Christmas is coming, the goose is getting fat, and I’m buggering off abroad and missing the lot.

Well, not exactly, but I am going away for Christmas. When I tell people this, and they hear the exotic overseas location, they are somewhat envious. You see, I’m off to South Africa.

I say I’m leaving, and their minds drift to those daydreams they’ve had, no doubt whilst queuing in John Lewis or elbowing their way through bad-tempered shoppers on Oxford Street, dreams of running away – abroad, specifically.

Running away from the stress of being unable to find that elusive gift for your second cousin once removed, from the surly unappreciative look on your mother-in-law’s face as you present an undercooked turkey, from the hideous chaos of it all.

Yes, a Christmas that involves heat, beaches and does not have cranberry sauce or a distant relative in sight – that’s what people are dreaming of.

But it’s not that simple. Because I’m going to South Africa with the family. The entire Brown contingent will be getting together.  And with an age range from 8- 85, there’s not even a Mattel game that’s suitable for us all.

I know a couple who decided that they simply could not face another Christmas with their respective families. So they invented a well timed skiing holiday that was going to take them away from home for the festive season. And what happened? Well, they stayed at home alone, in peace, but then daren’t leave the house for fear of being spotted. They spent their Christmas hiding in the living room with the curtains drawn, in constant fear that their families could drive past and discover the truth at any moment. They couldn’t even pop to Asda to replenish the Quality Streets.

So you see, perhaps a family Christmas is preferable after all. 

It’s a good job. Cause this Christmas, we’ll be getting all the family, blood and extended, former and future, nice and tiresome, old and young,  sticking them in a room and celebrating the day.

A room that is 6000 miles from my room, with my things, my habits and my sanity.

Luckily for us all, we’re all far too British to actually fall out, so it will be sunshine, bbqs and a hearty dose of emotional repression.

So, turns out I’ll be embracing the Christmas chaos after all. I’ll just hopefully be embracing it from the poolside.

Glitter tastes funny

I’ve come over all Kirstie. This year I decided stop trying to buy a lovely Christmas and instead attempt to craft one. And who wouldn't agree that a handmade anything is always lovelier than the poshest version from the shops? Well, we’ll see.

I gave myself plenty of time. The decision was made in October – Christmas was months away.

I turned to the new hero of the crafting world, Kirsty Allsopp. The problem was that some of the things I was expected to copy for my own gifts were a little ambitious. Not because I couldn't do them, you understand, but because they required so many out-of-reach materials. I’m not sure I have a spare £30 to splurge on gold leaf to decorate a couple of pears, and I certainly don’t have acres of woodland from which to forage for evergreen foliage for my wreath.

So, as a city dweller, how was I going to use the materials I found on my doorstep to fashion a Christmas wreath? I look out of my window at the block of flats across the street: popping out to find some festive-looking twigs is rather more difficult when they are buried under a great mound of concrete. 

Newspaper seemed the only available option, and so, in a spirit more ‘Blue Peter’ than Middle-Class-Allsopp, I began. 

For several weeks it sat, looking a lot like a wire coat-hanger with newspaper wrapped around it. Ahh, festive. Even when I started adding ribbon the boyfriend could only muster, “That will be such a lovely gift for someone who appreciates effort.” Thanks love.

I don’t have an artisan lurking around my house, and heaven forbid I have a full-time job to go to, so I haven’t quite managed to glass-blow my own baubles.

But I have made, painted, varnished and glittered angel tree decorations. There was a disastrous morning when I was multi-tasking – finishing off the glittering whilst simultaneously eating my breakfast – and I got a bit confused, but we’ll gloss over that.

My fabric stuffed robins are a little wonky, but will certainly brighten a friend’s tree.

And the wreath? Well, it came together quite nicely, thank you very much. 

“I just couldn’t see its potential”, the fella finally conceded.

However, a final word of warning: making your own Christmas presents will not be a cheap alternative if you manage to get paint all over your coffee table. 

Just saying.