I am a Christmas Grinch in training. On any given day I vacillate between the joy of the season and the annoyance of the season. Queuing in shops seems to bring out the very best in people, whether in the car or the actual shop. People would sell their granny to buy the last turkey on Christmas Eve.
At least the petrol stations are open on Christmas Day. Once upon a time in good ole Ireland, the whole country closed. Mass was a non-negotiable ritual. The best part was clocking the new clothes everyone was wearing as we sashayed down the aisle after communion as though it was a catwalk.
My local church was massive. They have now divided it into two, and the other half is a community centre. The ceiling had, what seemed like, hundreds of cubes in the ceiling. When I could not listen to the priest, I used to stare up at the ceiling and see how many cubes I could count.
Even at a young age I could not believe what the priest said. It smacked of hypocrisy. How could they know what a family was like, or what went on behind closed doors, when they could not marry. Despite my cynicism, I still enjoy going to churches, preferably when they are empty, as the peace is glorious.
Happy Early Christmas from The Grinch in Training.
Stay fab
Adele
