A Little Bittersweet

I'm working in one of those offices at the moment - by one of those offices, I mean I'm in a place where they decorate the office at Christmas. It looks like santa has spewed tinsel from every orifice around here. There's a christmas tree next to a pillar, complete with lights blinking away. Somebody's looped some tinsel over my pod. I don't have the energy to argue. I haven't decorated the house at christmas since I left Myponga some 25 years ago.

I'm looking at one of the inmates from one of the other pods hang tinsel from paperclips suspended in the ceiling tiles - as you do. Hope he doesn't fall - I can see the OH&S lady eyeing him off.

There's also a woman doing something with something that sounds like bells.

Of my few fond Christmas memories, the sound of bells is one that always touches me - the gentle tinkling of bells, not the sod off and die cathedral bells that have the capacity to wake you from the best night sleep after the best night out to the worst hangover ever.

Nah, Christmas Bells remind me of my old dog, Sheba.

Like most children of the seventies in Australia, our family had a mixed breed mutt called Sheba. Sheba was a little kelpie/Border Collie cross. She was black with a white chest, white paws and a white. She had the look and personality of the Footrot Flats dog. Most people had a dog called Sheba  - it was the name you called your dog back then.


She was the bestest dog ever. My best mate as a kid, she slept on the end of the bed - she even had half a litter of puppies on the end of my bed before dad went and made a nest for her in the laundry.

Sheba also had a penchant for smiling at people - baring her teeth when strangers turned up - though if you looked at the other end, the tail was going faster than a helicopter blade. She was a great guard dog. To send her into a frenzy all you had to do was say "Motorbike!" and she'd go barking out the door. She loved sleeping in front of the fire, chocolate donuts and herding in the chooks at night.

And at christmas time, we had a string of bells that she used to wear around her neck. Some gentle tinkling bells on a soft cord. When the christmas tree would go up, these bells would come out and they would be placed around the dog's neck. And there the bells stayed until the christmas tree went down. You'd hear her coming  - the soft tinkling bells meant she was somewhere around the place - most likely scavenging a corner of toast crust or looking for half a bowl of milk.

Just hearing these bells makes me want to go look for the dog.

I also remember what they said in that film "It's a Wonderful Life" (still my favorite Christmas film) - when you hear the bells at christmas, an angel has just earned their wings.
She's been gone twenty years now. I still go home to my mother's place and have to stop myself calling for her.

I'll stop tearing up in a minute...

The Stupid Season

Christmas freak out mostly over, it appears my anger issues are waning, thanks partly to a magic kinesiology session and partly to the fact that a bit of time and stillness fix everything. Now I have to get on with the next few weeks.

For somebody who doesn't really participate in Christmas - well only when I have to, it appears that things have got stupid indeed. Thankfully most of it is not Christmas related but still, when you need a bit of time to sit and reflect, things get silly. My next two weeks evenings look something like this.

Monday - going up a degree at Masons. This means getting to lodge for 6.30 pm after a day at work, during which I'm to go and see the career consultants at lunch.

Tuesday - my normal lodge meeting - normally this would be a rehearsal, but we're doing a ritual, so have to be there for seven. Somehow I have to find the time to make a loaf of sandwiches before this.

The only thing I tend to buck against with masons is that supper after the meetings is next to mandatory. You're also up against all these little old ladies who don't work who have been making supper  for forty years. It's a roster, and when it's your turn you have to bring along a sweet, a savory or sandwiches. I really don't like not having the time to bake myself. This time, I scored sandwiches, not too hard really.

Wednesday evening - dream group. Standing appointment.

Thursday evening - the work Christmas party. I'm unsure what it will be like, but I will go for a bit. The powers that be had the brilliant idea of putting the invite on the work social networking site. It took twenty minutes to accept the invitiaton online. Due to the long, drawn out, utterly pointless method of accepting the Christmas party invite, I'm not too sure how many people will turn up. The whole thing has got people's backs up.

Friday evening is currently free. I don't think there will be any point running beer club either - those who are there will probably have hangovers. This has been the case for the last few years. It's also a good chance to prepare for the following evening.

Saturday - another busy day. Meditation in the morning, followed by a massage around lunchtime, then prepare dessert to take around to a dinner party. I always make dessert -  it's almost a vocation. From special saused up fruit salads to lemon polenta cake to flourless chocolate cakes to bread and butter puddings - desserts are my calling. The theme of the night is Christmas, so I'm currently searching recipes for the night.

Sunday is currently free as well. A visit the the gym for pump class, a coffee with Emm or Kay after, then out to Blarney's for a visit to the boys and the Maow Maow.

Monday - oh yes, the Mason's Xmas break up. Fun. More food. joy. Must also work out when I'm going to prepare for the following day's events.

Tuesday - Final book group for the year. It's the book choosing event. My book group has this night every year to choose the books for the following year. Over dinner, everybody in the group brings along two books which they think are worthy of reading. These are discussed at the meeting and voted on using lollies - everybody is given 25 lollies and every induvidual can distribute their votes as they choose - only they can't vote for their own choices. It makes it very democratic. But I have to get the lollies sorted before the meeting. Bagging up 225 lollies isn't hard - just another drain on my time.

Wednesday - Dream group break up at a favorite restaurant. This will be fun. I get my favorite dessert on the planet - the Rusk Halva ice cream sundae with Persian fairy floss, Turkish delight and orange blossom water syrup. This will be a good night.

Thursday - The Beer Club Christmas party. I have to run this. It will also serve as my leaving do from Tin Can, String and Whistle. It won't be a long night, just have to pack up after the event.

Friday - Nothing at the moment. Probably finish the Christmas shopping or see Pinochet.

During this time I also have to look for a job, try and get to the gym in the morning, return the cat that is visiting, interview when required, get over the sore throat that is gracing the back of my head, remember ritual, tidy my CV, keep the flat clean, see a few friends I know I won't see until the new year...

I leave Tin Can, String and Whistle on 22 December. I drive to Adelaide for five days on the 23rd. Getting back to Melbourne there are cats to look after and the odd party to attend. It just doesn't stop.

The list goes on.

And this is the day book of a person who only participates in Christmas under duress...

Pand