Christmas Time

Ahh, Christmas. I don't know what exactly it is, but I get a 'Christmas feeling' around this time of year. There's something about the atmosphere, a kind of sedating anticipation. It's hard to put your finger on it, but it's that feeling as the night falls on Christmas Eve, and the family sits around the telly with the fire on. Something in the air at that moment whispers 'christmas'.

Or maybe it's just the cold I have.

Anyway, there's an upside and a downside to all this. One of the upsides is the knowledge of imminent time off and celebrations with friends and family. Y'know, all the good stuff. You'd have to be a right monster not to look forward to that (or Jewish (oop, bit controversial)).

But the downside is the rushing. Good God, why do people shop so much more during Christmas time? I don't really understand it. It becomes chaos at the supermarket weeks before Christmas, but it's unrelenting. For some reason people are just shopping more rather than stocking up. And Christ (appropriate), they know how to dither. They're kind of like bees the way they become dim and bounce around all over the place when it gets cold.

Then again, everything gets busier. It's like humanity has decided it will come out of its houses just to get in your way over the festive period. On the Tube, on the buses, in the street. I really don't understand it. And I have a cold.

All I know is Christmas shopping is going to be a nightmare. It'll be the same people sniffing at you and trying to get to the very thing you're looking at. The same people who suddenly decide the doorway is a great place to stop and ponder the size of the universe. The same people who faff around at the tills, deciding that now is the perfect moment to request something that doesn't exist and have the cashier search the shop for it. And I have a cold.

Plus I have essays, but I won't bore you with that. Or the cold.

Anyway, here's a poem I wrote about my cold.

Winter’s Cold

It’s a bitter symphony

God has got it in for me

Sack of gunk astride my nose

Heavy head requests a doze

Frustrated mind cannot rest

Ears imbalanced, hefty chest

Sleep will be a sweet relief

If only I knew when to breathe.

I have a cold by the way.

Why Winter's Awesome

I love winter. I love the biting cold, the fresh greyness in the air and the early nightfall. Not in a depressing way, I hasten to add. It's just a genuinely nice time of year. Summer has its moments. You'd be an absolute monster not to enjoy the brazen warmth, the barbecues on the beach and the lovely long holidays. However, there's too many downsides to summer. For one, when you're having a sleep, do you have the quilt on or off? On and you're boiling, off and you're cold. It's a real dilemma.

The big difference between the two is the insects. They're everywhere in summer, and I really hate those little bumblers. Their callous, dull lack of thought makes them stupid and clumsy and that infuriates me. How dare they be so primitive? They just blissfully bump their way in and out of rooms like the tiny oafs they are, annoying you with their incessant, impetuous and, quite frankly, rude tapping and buzzing. They think they're it.

That's why I like winter. They go away, like they should. I don't know whether the climate's changing or something though, because in recent years they really have started to cling on to consciousness regardless of the cold. Yesterday an enormous imbecile of a bee managed to squeeze its way through my ever-so-slightly ajar window, thickly bumping its head against the glass trying to get back outside again. It just made me think "You know what? Honey isn't worth it. Why are these things still around when they're just so... thick?".

I'm not phobic or anything, but for some reason insects boil my blood. I think its their ignorance. Or perhaps it has something to do with a giant spider I encountered a year ago. I say I'm not phobic, but I have to admit, I'm not a fan of the big spiders. Last year I was having a sleep and I could hear some rustling. I turned on my iPod to search around the room and sitting above me on the wall was the biggest monster of a spider I'd ever witnessed. Six inches, I measured (guessed).

I turned the light on, but the little dumb cretin fell off the wall behind the bed, so I basically couldn't sleep that night. I know that sounds really pathetic, but when a leggy beast like that is wandering about, capable of being idiotic enough to tumble around the bed, it's never going to be the best night's kip, is it?

In the end, I caught it the next night after an intense battle of wits (it sat on a curve on the wall, so I couldn't trap it in a bowl - in the end I kept throwing socks at it until it fell off and then I got it). But again, there's no reason why all that trouble should have happened. Why does a spider ever need to be that big? What good comes out of a stupid thing like that sitting in a house (other than a rather funny YouTube video)?

As insects go though, we have it pretty mild. I hate to imagine what it's like in Australia though. Spiders are reportedly one of the major causes of road accidents, as some of the giant ones like to live in cars and people freak out when they suddenly emerge onto the dashboard. Furthermore, someone on the internet posted a video of what looked like a wobbly bit of felt just blobbing around on the wall. It was the strangest abomination you'll ever see, and if I was a theist I'd be thinking "Why, God? What was this all about?"

In the end, they're all a bit pointless (apart from on the food chain and other boring scientific things like that). Meh. Bring on the frostiness. I love winter anyway, but the temporary eradication of the insects is the (here comes the joke) ice-ing on the cake.