Feeling Christmasy?

It's a strange time of year - for those of us with any connection to the Christmas tradition. Maybe it is simply a strange time, generally. Perhaps you are having a fabulous time, I hope so.

Right now I feel zero connection to Christmas. Less and less as each year passes. There is nothing really happening for me and my loved one, we are staying 'home' in our little village. We don't have any friends living close enough to celebrate with, so it will be quiet. Last year we did a big family thing in England - some coming from Canada. I expected it to be awful, but actually it was a hoot.

And, right now, I'm not feeling like celebrating anything in particular.

Other Christmases come to mind - the time in Glencolumbkille (Donegal, Ireland), when I was 13, and my grandmother had a stroke and fell face first into her Christmas pudding and brandy butter. She came to consciousness shortly afterwards into a brand new world filled with the Ding Dongs, led by Johnny Noo Noo who was going to fly her to London any minute. She spent months in her thin cotton nightdress in the bleak Donegal fields around our house, waiting for him, quite happily, having very long conversations with the rest of the Ding Dongs and warning me and my brother not to go into her room because it had 'VD'.

The following year Ingrid, my brother's girlfriend (and my 'best' friend) came to stay, along with my uncle Robin and a friend of his from South Africa. We were living temporarily in what was called the Lighthouse Cottages - a lumpen beige building which was damp, had peeling floral wallpaper, and was not exactly cheery.  I can't remember the order of events but my brother crashed my mother's old but still dashingly orange Fiat 124 sport car ( "A big boulder came and hit it"), she was so furious she slammed the speckly opaque glass front door and smashed it to smithereens and stomped upstairs to her room. I think this was Christmas morning. Meanwhile I was trying to figure out how to cook Christmas dinner for all these people, fend off (and encourage) the flirtations of my uncle's friend. Then Ingrid came into the kitchen and told me she had blocked the toilet trying to flush down her tampons. It was badly blocked. Very badly.

My uncle, his friend and my brother had to take up the kitchen floorboards to unblock the pipes. This required the presence of my mother to do the job properly (my family is a handy bunch). As you can imagine she was delighted.

Ingrid and I hid in the pantry with my two over-cooped-up dogs (a very sweet afghan called Natasha and a very neurotic red setter called Turnarround Tina).

The evening ended well, I seem to remember: down in the pub drinking Bushmill's Black Bush and no longer fending off the Uncle's friend. (Hunky hippy type he was).

Well. Actually my very very best Christmas was spent entirely alone. I was in my 20's, and living in London. For some reason everyone I knew or might spend Christmas with was away. I had recently been given a walkman ( remember those?) and it was a divine revelation. I spent the holiday wandering around Hampstead Heath listening to Tears for Fears, David Bowie and the Thompson Twins. I felt like I was on drugs. I was totally at peace.

Okay, enough of that. I actually just wanted to post a few of my favourite video clips, things that make me smile no matter what. So, if you are in need of a little escape from all the thought-forms and emotion-forms that float about these days, try these. I'm sorry I'm not following good blogging behaviour by posting so many, I hope you have a fast line.

To start with, a few mad cats, of course:



Have you ever asked why?



Or pondered the question of evolution, and God?


Or the question of death?



Have you ever just wanted to let it all fly?


Or had a bad pet experience?



Or felt a little out of place?



Or a bit hungry?

And finally, one cool cat:


Phew. I think I need a little rest after all that.