Christmas, even if a low key Christmas is planned, I think the best bit, in a way, is the anticipation.
Just walking to the village shop earlier at around 5.30pm, looking at the houses with outdoor lights (or those whose inside lights could be seen from outside) made me
.
Yes, there's all the usual run up crap, lose weight for the party season (whatever that might be) what to wear, what to cook, how to make it perfect (personally I would ban the words "perfect" and "Christmas" being allowed in the same sentence), shortly followed by "how to lose the weight that you have put on over the "party" season.
However, I would like to say that even now I still get a frisson on Christmas Eve. Being in the kitchen, cooking and swearing at the gammon, preparing some of the veg, making the chestnut stuffing, an early glass of something (oh go on, it's Christmas!) with the traditional service from Kings on the radio. I think of the wonderful sense of relief once the shops have closed, what you haven't got, you will do without.
But perhaps more than anything, I love to think of all those children for whom Christmas Eve must seem like the longest day of the year! And perhaps the one day that they actually look forward to bedtime!
I can remember that feeling myself, and recall the delight of stretching ones toes down the bed on Christmas morning and hearing that crackling, rustling sound that meant that the pillow case you had left at the end of the bed had been filled!
Sometimes Christmas can seem (to borrow or misquote something that I believe was applied to second marriages) like the triumph of hope over experience.
OK, the experience may not be all that we might like it to be, but if we are able to have it, isn't the hope/anticipation lovely?