Christmas, Actually

Christmas - it means so many different things to so many different people. Well, that’s the traditional festive cliché done.

To me, it means having to sign 1,600 Christmas cards in the next 10 days; mainly for work. (Though there’s some ‘political’ cards, too. Oh, and I still have a few friends in the real world.)

I refuse to use a stamp or pre-printed cards. And I insist on addressing each one individually. Which is doubtless very sweet of me. In reality, it means that anyone who receives a Christmas card from me after I’ve signed the first 50 won’t be able to read my scrawl. My signature starts to resemble the decline evidenced by Guy Fawkes’ moniker during the course of his torture.

Tonight was the first night, and I got through my statutory 160 in two hours. Co-incidentally the length of time it takes to watch my favourite Christmas film, the unjustly maligned Love Actually. (Yes, I know it was on ITV1 yesterday - yesterday I was talking about Oxford city council’s budget til 11pm.)

Click on my blog profile, and you will see LA listed as one of my top seven films, a view from which I do not resile having watched/listened to it again tonight. As far as I’m concerned, those who disagree have no soul.