I am delighted to see the christmas gifts in my local Boots. Under red and gold stars, little bottles of smellies nestle in huge cardboard and cellophane packages. I am pleased, because among my hobbies are whingeing and pedantry, and I can get out my “bloody Christmas” whinge and my “It’s Advent, not ‘the Runup to Christmas,’ and it does not start until 27 November” pedantry. I have been happily moaning, and indulging my shock, since 1989 when I first saw Christmas displays in October, in Woolworth’s.
Actually, it reminds me of wandering out for dinner down Republic St in Valletta in November, under tasteful and lovely decorations, in a T shirt. Desperate to drum up trade, a shop has its midwinter festival stock out while there are blackberries and butterflies in the hedges, and I do not need the heating on because my living room is 20°C.
I am glad that I can enjoy my pedantry, rather than getting worked up about it as I used to. The problems of life are not for solving, they are for working on, said Carl Jung.
I was away on Sunday morning, but scheduled my post in advance, telling WordPress when to publish it. There was no need to claim to have been abducted by the security services.
Update: from 18 October, the Christmas lights are up in the streets.