I don't do Christmas

What exactly does it mean when you don't do Christmas? That's what the man at the check out at Tescos asked me when i gave him that tert reply after doing just a regular shop on Christmas Eve."It means I don't buy into the hype." I said. "Ohh,"  He looked at me the same way I imagine married people look at single people at weddings.
As I walked up the hill towards home, pleased with my shop thank you,  I tried to remember exactly why I usually back out of  Christmas. The most obvious thing I could think of was all the hype which I find so annoyig. "Spend, spend, spend before your cash runs out." "Spend, spend, spend- even when your cash runs out and get into nice fat debt, debt, debt." And the fact that they don't even mention Jesus anymore. But hark a counter thought: 1) Who are they? and 2) Jesus wasn't born on Dec 25th anyway. We know this.

My children had grown and usually they go off to their step mum or elsewhere for Christmas. I, on the otherhand, stay indoors with new books, dvds, wine, a journal and whatever else. I mull around a quiet flat during the day, speak to a few people on the phone usually saying "say that again!" because of the chaos ensuing wherever they are- and revel some more in my choice.  And I love that. The pottering from room to room, the dinner cooked from yesterday. The gifts some kindly soul still purchased for me desite my non-doing of Christmas. I've had about seven fantastic years of this.
Christmas 2011. My boys have decided they wanted to stay at home with me. Mmmm. I imagined the noise, the grime music, me getting annoyed when one of them decides to leave the toilet seat up or worse still, wee all over the seat! Me having to go back to Tescos to spend another forty punds and more on Christmas bleeding accessories. My Christmas was being hijacked!!
Then my mother called to make sure I was coming up to hers, and later my brother then one of my sisters.
"But you know I hate Christmas." I said this to both of them.
"Oh Martha, don't be so dry." my brother said. "We're not even gonna mention Christmas." (exactly, so what's the point!) "It's about the family getting together and being together," he said. Which was true. I do have a great family and eating grandma's food sure was a far better prospect than eating mine. Plus, we haven't all been together for a couple of months now- so where's the harm?
I put it to the boys. My youngest was as stubborn and somewhat self-centred as I had been so wasn't interested. My eldest, who had better social skills, was up for it.
"Someone will come and collect us and we'll all go up to grandma's," I declared. And that's what we did.
My six siblings, nine of the eleven grandchildren, my lovely mum and dad. A wonderful spread that grandma had been cooking since 8am (with the help of Jesus, she said!) I ate honeyed parsnips, sweet potatoe, coleslaw, potatoe salad, macaroni cheeses, bean salad, brocolli, turkey, chicken, salmon, wine, more wine, juice, rice, sweetcorn, chocolae gateau for dessert with little crunchie bits :) - and I can't remember what else.
I remember the noise ad meyhem, my siblings, my gorgeous growing nieces, my handsome nephews, that horrid wine, the walk to the shop for a better bottle and a sneaky roll up. The photos from a sister's recent holiday. My brother's great selection of  80s and 90s music, the reminising and dancing, us laughing- trying on each other's shoes- especially those high wedged red ones and my belly finally aching.
The next day we went up to my sons' other nan and done pretty much the same thing- had a whale of a time!  I ate macaroni cheese, stunning fishcakes, chicken, rice, chow mien, roast potatoes, salad. Watched the young ones get their joke together and actually felt good to be there with no hang-ups or things unsaid about the past or the presant! My goodness me!
When the till man at Tesco's asks me how was my Christmas I shall smile with lighted eyes and say it was simply fantasic! I wonder if his was as good as mine? And I don't even do Christmas!