Christmas, brought to you by women

If you do Christmas in any form, odds are the women in your life (and yourself, if you is one) are (and have been for a while) considering present lists (and the budgets they represent), planning menus, ordering meat and/or planning other food, checking guest lists and shopping - endlessly shopping. I'm sure there exist boy-girl couples in which Christmas is co-ordinated by the boy, but I've never met them. Oh sure, guys "help out". Some of them might even buy a present or two. My father, in fact, was the food organiser. However, I've never met a bloke who was pulling all the strings, making sure everyone gets a gift (which they might even like), ensuring that all the decorations are done, working out who needs to be where and when. In short, they aren't responsible.

An illustrative example (paraphrased)

Crash: I feel guilty that you're doing so much. If there's anything I can do to help, let me know.
Me: Yeah, actually, I'd like you to be responsible for the booze.
Crash: Ok, I can do that.
[pause]
Crash: Could you just decide what booze we want and check on the web for the prices at Dan's and 1st Choice?

The idea that men "help out" is a constant meme, but it seems to be on steroids at Christmas. I've even heard men complain that the magic is taken out of Christmas for them if they have to actually make it happen themselves. Well no, there really is no Christmas magic - it's the women doing a bloody lot of work - or at least a lot of thinking, planning and juggling that makes it look like magic. It's all illusion, and frankly, the show could probably use a few more magicians and a few less audience members.

Of course, I still love Christmas, so this post is to thank the women in my life, and all the women before them, and those all over, who are making Christmas happen. Continuing, creating and bending traditions, putting their heart into gifts, food and atmosphere that creates the magical illusion.

On Saturday, I'll be drinking white wine in the sun, ignoring the dodgy lyrics and enjoying the show, even though I can see the strings and all the "from Santa"s are in my handwriting.

Christmas tree O Christmas tree

It took 4 days to finish the bloody tree. I figured I may as well share the pain.

And finally, it looks like this.

I did it in so many little spurts, I have no idea how long it took, but even after this photo was taken, I found another four ornaments that have been added somewhere in there. 

To the right of the photo is the kitchen, so you can see the tree clearly from two sides as you move through the house. This is effectively only half of the decorated tree. 

The star is a new one. I've wanted an LED one for ages. It looks like this.

The lights on the tree are also coloured LEDs, so it looks like this.

In lieu of a post

I'm less than chipper this week. Rather than inflict you with my angst, here's a photo of my eldest, looking chuffed because he'd effortlessly climbed into a new tree. (The red face is from running from the rain, not climbing into the tree.) 

I can't even take credit for the photo, a wonderful woman from school donated the photo shoot as part of an auction, and I bid for it and won it.

One day, this photo will be the one we look back on and say "You know, it was always obvious he was gay."*

* I'm joking really, I just thought it was funny that this was the shirt he chose to have his family photos taken in.**
** I think perhaps the time where he decided he would need to move to the ACT to marry his best mate might have been more of a giveaway.***
*** No, I don't actually have any opinions on his sexuality, that is clearly his business, and his to discover. OTOH, I see no particular reason to assume he's straight, or any other orientation.