Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas

('Meet me in St Louis' aired on Christmas Eve when I was about 8 and I fell in love. I think I watched it every second day all through the following month's summer holiday.)

I love this time of year. I know that's probably a bit naff, but I really do. In my experience (and that includes my years of retail and hospitality work) people are generally pretty good and friendly, trying to get into the spirit of the season. I think people want to do the right thing this time of year: buy the perfect gifts, make the perfect meals, avoid all the usual fights and arguments. Of course it's impossible. 

I actually find a measure of comfort in the imperfection of my Christmas rituals and in my wonderfully obnoxious, dysfunctional family. I know that at some point we'll fight over the lack of space in our tiny house filled to bursting with too many people, and that my older brother will eventually push my buttons so that I lose my temper, but we all love each other and that usually comes home strongly at several points throughout the day. 

I spend Christmas Eve night singing my heart out in a beautiful chapel in the inner west of Sydney. We sing beautiful music, including all my favourites: 'Lo', How A Rose 'Ere Blooming', 'The Angel Gabriel', 'The Cherry Tree Carol' and 'Jerusalem'. Christmas morning we have a new plan, as my mother and I and probably a few others from my family will visit my maternal grandmother in her nursing home. Then we'll have lunch together, all 7 of us, open presents and then let my sister run her ritual: Christmas trivia, which is what it sounds like, with questions about Christmas related subjects. Apparently this year we're introducing a new game too, called Festive Fetch, which will involve this guy:

Of course my biggest Christmas ritual is the mix CD, copies of which are already winging their way to several of you readers. It's always a satisfying moment when they're in a pile in front of me, ready to go. 

Happy Christmas, guys. Love you all heaps.