This week's question comes from Daphne in Shropshire. Daphne asks, "Dear Eileen, how do I make this a special Christmas? I live alone and am unable to see any family. I don't ask for sympathy, but I'm having trouble thinking of ways to enjoy myself this Christmas. Any ideas?"
My Child,
This truly has been an annus horribilis. I am ever so sorry to hear about your situation. This is the time of year when we wish to be close to family and friends, the pandemic has driven a Stanley knife through traditions we hold sacred.
That being said, I do believe one can find ways to spice up their Christmas day, even if one is alone. Let me introduce you to (Fmr) sister Eileen's extraordinary Christmas isolation bucket list!
Music
My child, you must have music. You shall have music. Music is the soul's balm, it's a spiritual loofah, reaching the places of your deep unconscious other art forms, like woodwork, just cannot. Music illuminates us, transforms us, it allows us to stare our pain square in the face and enjoy ourselves while we do it.
Music and Christmas are traditionally intertwined, joined at the hip, so to speak. One might enjoy some of the more modern 'Xmas' ballads, Mariah Carey's 'All I Want For Christmas is You', Chris Rea's 'Driving Home For Christmas' or 'Merry Muthafuckin' Xmas' by Eazy-E.
If one is a tad more traditional, one might like to listen to 'Silent Night', 'O Tannenbaum', 'O Holy Night' or 'In the Bleak Mid-Winter'.
My personal favourite, the music I listen to every Christmas morning come rain or shine are a set of Gregorian chants, which form the central tradition of Western plainchant, a form of monophonic, unaccompanied sacred song usually performed in Latin. One might be surprised to hear that a lapsed Nun still holds this music dear, but, my child, one never stops loving music. I sit looking out over my back garden, tears in my eyes, nursing a glass of mulled wine as 'Agnus dei' plays on my surround sound speakers. It is quite simply a blissful, innocent Christmas tradition that I look forward to every festive season.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MgHclJGCOPY
Decoration
Speaking of the garden. One might not have such a space, but even if one doesn't, it's important one makes full use of the space around one, furnish it, decorate it, make it one's own.
I consider myself very lucky to have a small garden and I take full advantage of it, especially around winter when a lot of people choose to ignore it. Usually around the 10th of December you'll see me lumbering around my village with a great big pile of plants including holly, mistletoe, yew, poinsettias, amaryllis, English ivy, and Christmas cacti (yes, Christmas cacti! What will they think of next?). It is one of my great yearly festive joys to spend a long afternoon tending to my garden.
One must be careful with several of those aforementioned plants though, my child. They can be extremely poisonous to animals and humans alike. Yew contains chemicals called taxines that quickly cause an irregular heartbeat if eaten, it is known to be life-threatening. English Ivy can cause skin inflammation and dogs have been known to die from consuming mistletoe. But apart from those dangers, if one is vigilant and cautious, one will have a beautiful, Christmassy garden to wake up to!
Food
Just like music, food and Christmas are joined at the hip. One might enjoy making some mince pies, or a beautiful Christmas cake topped with marzipan. But there are some lesser known traditional Christmas foods that one might find very intriguing (and mouth-watering) indeed. Our German friends like to make 'stollen' a dried fruit cake made with walnuts, raisins, spices and rum. It's certainly a heavy dessert and make sure your stollen isn't stolen! I humour you, of course, my child, the neighbourhood watch are extra vigilant this time of year.
Our Italian friends make a kind of sweet bread called 'panettone'. Just like the stollen, panettone is stuffed with raisins, sultanas and various other fruits.The Greeks make a sweet pastry dish known as 'baklava', containing chopped nuts mixed with syrup sauce and sweet honey.
If none of this takes your fancy remember a nice traditional Christmas dinner can still be made for one person. Pigs in blankets, a nice healthy dollop of sprouts (my favourite), parsnip mash, broccoli, carrots, roast potatoes and of course turkey.
Boil the sprouts, my child, mash the parsnips, wrap the sausages with bacon, cook the broccoli, cook the carrots, roast the potatoes. Make sure God is watching you, my child. He's angry. He's very angry. Don't piss him off, my child, don't piss your God off! Praise him, he made all things. Boil the fucking broccoli, you heathen, you unbeliever! Boil the carrots, the sprouts, watch them die, watch them repent, "Save us" scream the cretinous little parsnips, all smug and faithless and wrapped in doubt, smug gits. Glory be to God, he's furious. He's angry, my child, you better believe it. The end is nigh, the rapture is upon us. Repent your sins and kill that turkey. Jesus Christ died for our sins and this turkey will die in infamy, praise be to Jesus, my child, praise be the Jesus and all who follow him. GOD IS ANGRY, HE'S GOING TO CREATE A FLOOD WHICH WILL END ALL OF HUMANITY, THIS IS THE LAST CHRISTMAS, MY CHILD, SAVE YOURSELF, REPENT. QANON, STOP THE STEAL, TAKE BACK CONTROL *&^%%^%%*())%$&())(&^KGFGHJC%.
Don't Sweat the Small Stuff
My child, i'd like to apologize for that outburst. I'm sometimes plagued with severe existential doubt. People think it's easy for those who have left religion behind and have developed a new outlook on life, but in truth, it's a sort of bereavement. I am bereaved of sense. Some days, nothing makes sense to me. In a year like this, these cavernous feelings of impending doom are ever so frightening. But one must never let oneself spiral. One must believe that one has an adamantine inner steel, even when one feels weak and breached of all comfort and knowing.
The most important thing to remember this Christmas is you are not alone. God may not be watching you, but you can be sure as hell the neighbourhood watch are. I know a gentleman in my village, Carl, who takes this security very seriously. Even if the crime rates in my village are extraordinarily low, Carl patrols the streets every night with a head torch, a rake and a dog whistle (Carl has a crippling fear of mythical black dogs so carries a dog whistle wherever he goes. I've told the old boy that there's unlikely to be a giant blood-thirsty hound in Budgens, but he won't listen). Carl and I have struck up quite a close friendship, it's rather wonderful to find such a jolly good companion so late in life. Who knows what the future holds?
My child, I wish you a very happy Christmas and marvelous new year. I'm off to apologize to my neighbour, their Jack Russell dog ingested some of my mistletoe which was hanging over their fence and unfortunately died. I feel awfully mortified. The children loved that dog. At least I'll be having a good night's sleep for the first time in 5 years! Silver linings, my child, silver linings!
Yours Truly,
Eileen.
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| This is Carl, the neighbourhood watch gentleman in my village. He's holding a Whale penis! What a naughty sense of humour he has! |
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