WE started Christmas in good time at our place this year.
We are now lagging a little for reasons I couldn’t possibly have calculated into the comprehensive logistical planning.
I still don’t know where the terribly precious glass Christmas tree ornaments are, but let me tell you, it is just as well they are securely hidden.
Since two of the household being absent from the initial strategic planning discussion, we were able to coup the Christmas tree.
Those absent included the one who espouses a large green plastic tree which others of us believe is part cactus because it is so sharp and pokey.
The other, who won’t be home until Christmas, is the one who always wants a live tree which is fine for the environment but which subsequently becomes a dead tree no matter what I do.
So that left us with two voting members of the Christmas Committee and we opted for a post-colonial, deconstructed, modernistic, plywood job.
It is smallish, has a limited number of places to hang ornaments, and is generally more manageable in a household with a pair of Santa’s little helpers, the Christmas Imps — Tufaan Taylor the Hurricane of Flagstaff, aged five, and her two year old brother, Cullen the Destroyer.
We decided on a basic white and silver theme because most of the indestructible tree ornaments being of those colours. I use the term “indestructible” lightly, it appears they can be taken apart, if technically not broken.
The green tree enthusiast arrived at this point and with great good nature joined the decorating party. He did well until I interfered and had to be sent away to look again for the glass ornaments.
The rest of the team got on with bells, balls and stars. It took hours and when finished it certainly had a merry, even if somewhat raffish, appearance.
We could only sit back and feel smug. Tree up, and still the first week of December. We got so carried away we had a roast dinner with gravy, a sort of practice run for Christmas.
Afterwards, I found the Decoration Committee chairperson busily rearranging the tree to give it a little more balance and flair. Alas, it didn’t stay that way for long.
Cullen the Destroyer turned out to have an obsession with bells. He carefully rearranged them to his masculine satisfaction: in regimented rows along the branches, all at the same level.
Tufaan blew on all the little bells until they were placed, shall we say, at extreme random.
Then she spotted the village of tiny wooden people painted in red Santa and soldier outfits.
She had them off the tree in a trice and busily going about their tiny wooden people’s business on the coffee table.
They have since attended family dinners, bathtime and watched television, and have now apparently gone for a little rest somewhere. Not on the tree.
Meanwhile, the bell freak has removed various other non-tree decoration bells from various other formerly decorated spots including the front doors, where they were intended to make a jolly jingling sound when people came in or went out.
Now they make a jolly jingling sound when we accidentally kick them under the kitchen table or haul them out from under a cushion on the armchair.
We also hear them being pulled to bits from where we had assumed they were firmly attached. Very little, however, is beyond the strength of a child under five.
And so the Christmas season rolls on, regardless of missing decorations. Just last week we went to the School of Angels kindergarten concert to watch the children perform creditable meke, cute Bollywood numbers, read and do impressive tae kwan do.
Except for our two-year-old, who immediately on spying his mother in the audience wailed and bellowed until he gained her knee and refused to get off again to go on stage.
Never mind, his big sister was magnificent in the tae kwan do, despite kicking so enthusiastically she lifted both feet off the ground with the expected effect, splat. But the martial arts master is such a kind and wonderful teacher that a hug and whispered instruction soon had her smashing her tiny foot through a board.
I’m beginning to doubt the wisdom of having let the Destroyer watch this performance, but perhaps he’ll stick to kicking planks, not animate objects.
All in all, it’s shaping up well for Christmas. May we all enjoy the festive season without violence or mishap, safely and happily with family and friends.
That goes too for Professor Brij and Dr Padma Lal, who are still not permitted to return to Fiji for no given reason.
* The writer is a regular contributor to this column. Views expressed are hers and not of this newspaper.
