So today is the last day of Christmas. But looking at houses being stripped of their glittery adornments, with no peep of bells on the radio the annual madness that is Christmas is forgotten much sooner than it should.
I took my tree down last week, not because my full name is in fact Ebenezer, but because our perverse dog gets his kicks out of rubbing against the branches, systematically spreading needles all over the entire house in much a similar way to that of sand finding it’s way into every nook and cranny after a visit to the beach.
I find the start of January an entirely odd time, technically we should still be celebrating the festive time, yet it’s forgotten as soon as it graces us. We’re a fickle sort, us humans, constantly chasing something or following a trend, and as soon as something comes to a close, it’s onwards with little regard for what’s just been.
I think it’s quite easy to be depressed at this time, especially considering this was the first Christmas with our son which made it all the more spectacular, but I say on the 6 January give Wham one more spin, just because you’re well within your rights, and no bad luck will befall you. Here’s one last festive gift from me to you…