It's the Most Wonderful Time...
...of the year
Ah, Christmas.
That magical day where streets light up like stars and giant trees pop up everywhere and we all get happily consumed by capitalism.
Christmas.
I don’t know about you, but I fully buy into the idea of Christmas. Even though I’m not the least bit religious, it’s the festival that is most important, most special to me, even more so than my own birthdays.
When I think of Christmas, I think of decorating our garden with fairy lights with dad as a child. I think of a day at our Christian school where we didn’t study but instead congregated in various spots and sang hymns wearing our sweaters to brave the Thai winter.1 I think of decorating the Christmas board in the classroom and the fierce competition that I think we may have won once or twice.
But, almost inevitably, I also think of my time in Europe. I think of walking down lit-up Oxford street that sparkles and dazzles. I think of going to Winter Wonderland in Hyde Park that is so uncool yet still magical. I think of strolling through Christmas markets in various European cities—Nuremberg, Paris, Vienna, Prague—looking at trinkets and drinking mulled wine and hot chocolate and never enjoying it any less. I think of that one Christmas I spent at an ex’s childhood home in Bavaria with his entire family and feeling thoroughly loved and welcomed.2
Christmas truly is the most wonderful time of the year for me. And this year, for the first time, I’m celebrating it with my partner (this time of the year is also special for him) in our very own home.
As early as November, I bought a mini Christmas tree that we put on our coffee table.3 Then a week later we added a mini snowman to our bookshelf. Then, as December rolled around, we went full Christmas shopping mode and adorned our flat with decorations that likes of which I’d never seen in my home.4
This email is a celebration of Christmas, sharing my most precious memories with you and wishing you all a merry, happy, memory-making day.
How about you? What are your most precious Christmas memories? Leave a comment, send a reply, ask Santa to deliver the message. I’d love to hear from you.
And if you’re looking for a Christmas present for a dear friend, you can give them the gift of words by simply forwarding them this newsletter.
Until next Friday… Stay cool, stay safe, stay merry,
Val
It gets cold if what you’re used to is 36 degrees.
Incidentally, this was the Christmas where I got the best present I’ve ever gotten. You see, I had studied Nazi Germany as part of my A-Levels in the UK and was fascinated by the period. (Don’t worry. I am not a neo-Nazi. I just find it infinitely interesting how a society can sleepwalk to that stage and how the party could achieve what it did. I had the good fortune to be selected for a trip to Auschwitz-Birkenau when I was in school and that was a life-altering trip.) For my Christmas present, my German ex presented to me an invitation to spend a couple of days in Nuremberg (where it all began) for “Nazi-seeing.” (Don’t worry. He’s not a neo-Nazi either.) We’d be walking the same streets, visiting the grounds of the Nuremberg rallies. And plus, the Christmas markets in Nuremberg were renowned. I was floored. Best present ever.
That thing fucking sheds everywhere. I don’t think it’s going to make it to another Christmas.
Admittedly, this is the first time I’ve decorated the interiors of my home, but I still think the decorations my partner put together look pretty rockin’.
Similarly, Christmas is more of a cultural artifacts than a religious one. And Europe sure does Christmas well.