It’s three sleeps until Christmas, and about 80 sleeps until I embarrass myself in front of the Numismatic Society of Nottingham with a dull, boring and badly presented talk. I can feel the iron hand of doom closing around my throat…
I will not be able to look my fellow members in the eye and people will point at me in the street like one of the sad figures from a Bateman cartoon – The Man Who Couldn’t Use Powerpoint.
In the end, I suppose it won’t be too bad, but I am a bit apprehensive.
Meanwhile, having airily stated “Christmas is in the bag. There are a few things left, but the essentials are in place and we are ready to go.” just a few days ago, I came face to face with reality.
A late listing of things we needed for Christmas, which was supposed to be a few veg and bits and pieces, ended up filling a page on my pad, and filled a trolley (though just a small one).
Murder was contemplated on more than one occasion, though I also smiled a lot, gave way a lot and quipped “It’ll soon be over!” more than once.
It’s amazing how many people come out just before Christmas who seem never to have seen a shop before. They dawdle, they gawp and they get in my way. They have uncontrolled children, slack jaws and, often, resentful partners in tow. Zombies have more life behind the eyes, more spatial awareness, and more charm than many of these shuffling, gangway-blocking lost souls.
Today’s poem is dedicated to those shoppers trapped unwillingly in a vortex of Christmas shopping. It’s quite long but you can get the gist from the first part before scrolling down to the last line.
Yes, I do have a cavalier attitude to classic poetry, but life is too short to be serious about poems. This is particularly true where the poet has, as my father-in-law used to tell me, a name that is an anagram of “toilets”.
I’ve returned to Julia’s reindeer pictures for a bit of Christmas cheer.
https://pacificparatrooper.files.wordpress.com/2019/12/military_christmas_parachute2-e1577102412994.jpg
So Julia married her father, then.
There are similarities. Strangely, her father looked a little like T S Eliot.
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One of my favourite poets too, never occurred to me that his name was an anagram of toilets. Love the reindeer.
My father in law was a keen writer of humorous verse in his retirement and a great source of trivia like this.
What an excellent reindeer picture. Kudos to the photographer as they say. Toilets is my favourite poet so i was pleased to get a nudge to read your selection.
She is better than me, but she just doesn’t take many shots.
I love the reindeer photos Julia took!
The days are getting longer now, and spring is not far off.
Christmas, then Spring, then the humiliating disaster…
2020 is going to be rough on both sides of the Big Pond. š
Piece of cake – after the last couple of years we will at least have a direction, even if it is the wrong direction. My favoured solution is selling the UK to the USA, like Louisiana and Alaska, then I will go and live in Arizona during the winter.
All you have to worry about there is Valley Fever. š
https://www.cdc.gov/fungal/diseases/coccidioidomycosis/index.html
It’s good to have something to look forward to. š