New Xmas Job
My View - Wednesday 16th October 2019 

I’ve started a new job. Well, a short contract, which in the land of freelancing is practically a lifetime commitment. It’s great. I have to keep most of it under wraps for now, but I’m basically working on a television programme all about Christmas. Since October 1st I’ve been fully immersed in the festive season, so my head is bursting with baubles and baby Jesus. 

Carols have been playing on loop in my headphones, but I’ve realised, after 47 years, that I’ve been getting the first line of Good King Wenceslas wrong. I thought it was "Good King Wenceless last looked out on the feast of Stephen". Apparently not. I narrowly avoided further embarrassment in front of my new colleagues by refraining from asking if anyone had heard of a song which I pronounced 'Gawdett.' It’s Guadete - a much loved, famous Latin carol from the 16th century, popular with choristers and parishioners worldwide. Oops. 

Traditionally, I’m full of cold and empty of cheer by December 24, looking like a breadcrumb-starved robin who’s flown full speed into a window. I can often be seen pecking around M&S, panic buying cheese boards and cashmere socks, desperate for the sparkling charade to fade. But not this year. I’m on it. On my way home from work last night I picked up a couple of stocking fillers and when the teenagers started twittering about new trainers, I simply suggested they sent me the internet link. 

So festive am I, that when I rustled up a roast on Sunday, I upgraded my stuffing and went posh with cranberries and orange zest, pushing the gravy boat out even further by adding cauliflower cheese to my usual tableau of carrot discs and peas. I also can’t get an Aldi advert out of my head. They’re selling the UK’s biggest ever pig in blanket this Christmas. It’s basically a six foot Cumberland sausage wheel wrapped in bacon and I want one. Now.  

I’m sure you’ll agree that no birth is complete without wetting the baby’s head - and nothing shows our joy at Jesus’s arrival more than a seasonal snowball, necked after an eggnog with a Baileys chaser. So I’m preparing my drinks cabinet thus. I say drinks cabinet, it’s a nine-hole wine rack usually full of blackcurrant juice and carrier bags, but you can’t swing your sparkly culottes on a tummy full of Robinsons no added sugar. 

I literally can’t wait for someone to ask me if I’m ready for Christmas yet, because I’ve never ever been able to brag about having it all in the bag by November. I might even host an early New Year's Eve party next month and get that ticked off the list too. Actually, bad idea, because if I’m shifting everything a month prior, that would mean I’d be doing dry January in December.

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