It's Christmas in Killarney, with all of the folks at home...
I was walking through the Mall a few days ago and on the tannoy they were playing "Christmas In Killarney" by Bing Crosby. That's incidentally where I will be spending Christmas and feel quite hypocritical as I told myself (and many others) that I had not intention of returning to Ireland. So I caved. But I family still lives there and I miss them immensly. Christmas was just not the same here. Even Santa Claus looks different. I miss the mince-pies and Christmas cake and Christmas pudding and Advocat and Christmas crackers!
Another problem on my agenda is whether or not to get a Christmas tree. I don't have ANY decorations whatsoever so I would be starting from scratch and therefor it would be quite pricey - needless to say I would overspend on baubles and lights and a Christmas village. Besides, I won't even be here for Christmas. I did, however, want my New Year's Party to be in the presence of twinkling Christmas lights. Jesus, if this is my hardest decision right now I should count myself lucky.
See, even back then, I loved Christmas ('85):
Yes, I know, God-awful tree. Tinsel? What were my parents thinking?!
Christmas morning in the Foy household ('93). This is actually one of my fondest Christmas memories; my parents had surprised us with a really hard-to-come-by gift (Thunderbird figures) and had wrapped them in that giant box to mislead us. Retrospectively quite mean, but nonetheless exciting:
Nice pyjamas, Declan.
More recently, in 2003, I grew white, fluffy hair.
No, I kid - it's a Santa-hat. And that's my mom.
J'adore le Noël