Happi holidaze
It's the most loathsome month because of the weather but it's also my favourite month because of the sheer opulence of it all... it's not that I 'm a Christmas junkie... there's a lot of really crappy tacky shit out there, but I love the texture of the decor, and the rich colours and the different patinas of glass baubles, velvet ribbons, satiny fabrics...
I love the rich smells of mulling spices, citrus fruits, roasting meats.
I love the heady contrast of walking in the bitter biting cold and then entering a steamy, warm building... the silence of winter outdoors and the conviviality of the social events of the season.
I love the twinkling lights hiding under a dusting of shimmering snow, I love the crackle of fires in fireplaces (or bonfires, so long as it's not the curtains, it's all good)
As much as I HATE Jingle Bell Rock, I love the Huron Carol, and while NOTHING can disguise my contempt for the horrible English Carol of the Bells, its original Ukrainian Schedrivka gets my creative joy going (might be a familial thing: M Leontowich, composer of the music, may be a great uncle of mine).
Despite my misfortunes with the Stupid Moscow Ballet, I still get a kick out of the Nutcracker and dwell more on the tour of 2000 with Shumka and the Kyiv National Ballet, which was WAY more fun.
I love the legends that on New Year's, at midnight, animals are given the chance to speak. I always try to have a pleasant conversation with the cats.
I miss the Anglo Christmas Eve trek to St Andrew's when they used to still do the children's bit and it was a minister by the name of Jones who had a great sense of humour and wasn't all fire and brimstoney.
I still enjoy the Ukrainian Christmas service with some truely beautiful music... can't say I'm all that religious, but there is a sense of spiritual uplift in the Christmas services that I'm not ready to discount.
It's sad that it's all over at the beginning of winter: kind of a last hurrah of luxury before the austerity of the deep freeze.
Whatever you do, stay warm, physically and spiritually.
Khrystos Razshdayet'sya
I love the rich smells of mulling spices, citrus fruits, roasting meats.
I love the heady contrast of walking in the bitter biting cold and then entering a steamy, warm building... the silence of winter outdoors and the conviviality of the social events of the season.
I love the twinkling lights hiding under a dusting of shimmering snow, I love the crackle of fires in fireplaces (or bonfires, so long as it's not the curtains, it's all good)
As much as I HATE Jingle Bell Rock, I love the Huron Carol, and while NOTHING can disguise my contempt for the horrible English Carol of the Bells, its original Ukrainian Schedrivka gets my creative joy going (might be a familial thing: M Leontowich, composer of the music, may be a great uncle of mine).
Despite my misfortunes with the Stupid Moscow Ballet, I still get a kick out of the Nutcracker and dwell more on the tour of 2000 with Shumka and the Kyiv National Ballet, which was WAY more fun.
I love the legends that on New Year's, at midnight, animals are given the chance to speak. I always try to have a pleasant conversation with the cats.
I miss the Anglo Christmas Eve trek to St Andrew's when they used to still do the children's bit and it was a minister by the name of Jones who had a great sense of humour and wasn't all fire and brimstoney.
I still enjoy the Ukrainian Christmas service with some truely beautiful music... can't say I'm all that religious, but there is a sense of spiritual uplift in the Christmas services that I'm not ready to discount.
It's sad that it's all over at the beginning of winter: kind of a last hurrah of luxury before the austerity of the deep freeze.
Whatever you do, stay warm, physically and spiritually.
Khrystos Razshdayet'sya