25 Moments I Love During The Festive Season

9 Dec 2018

Moments I Love During The Festive Season

That moment when you open your advent calendar on 1st December. IT’S TIIIIIIIIME 

The first time I hear Christmas music. Excellent, time to listen to a song about two drug addicts who ruined each other’s lives on repeat. 

London lights. My aim is to always see the giant Christmas tree at St Pancras and the lights on Oxford Street and Covent garden at the very least. After my first visit to Christmas at Kew, I think that’s going to become a yearly occurrence as well. 

The first visit to a Christmas market. I will eat bratwurst in the pissing rain god dammit; it’s Christmas

Putting the festive bedding on. This is my second year of having festive bedding during December and I am astounded it took me so long to acquire. 

Lush bath bombs. Come at me sparkly over-priced goodness. 

Putting up the Christmas tree with G, accompanied by prosecco, Christmas music and a festive buffet which is mostly made up of sausage rolls and a baked camembert. Living the dream. 

Buying a yearly decoration and putting up the family Christmas tree back at my rents. Accompanied by mum's cooking and a Love Actually viewing because MUST NOT DEVIATE FROM TRADITION. 

Christmas baking. G makes the best mince pies ever and as I write this, he’s whipping up a batch of festive sausage rolls. Hell yeah. 

Hanging a wreath on the front door. This is about as far as I can go with outside decorations but one day, I probably will have outside lights. I’ll save that battle with G for when we live in a house. 

The sound of a brass band playing Christmas songs. I mean, seriously, is there anything more festive? 

The smell of Yankee’s Christmas Cookie candle. Nuff said. 

A tub of chocolates ‘for under the tree’. Christmas is just the world’s best excuse to buy an enormous box of chocolates for no other reason than ‘because’. Celebrations for breakfast anyone? Along with your advent calendar choc obvs. 

Festive pubs! With fairy lights, open fires, garlands and – if you’re lucky – an actual Christmas tree. Oh and baileys because obvs. 

The permanent feeling of being mildly hungover. I don’t love the feeling per se, more the feeling of all the celebrations recently had. 

Present wrapping. I try to wrap all my presents in one afternoon in a slightly frenzied fashion. There will be paper, ribbons, glitter and anything else that makes me feel like I now live in Santa’s workshop. 

Arriving in Sheffield to stay with my dad for the few days before Christmas, knowing that work is finished and I can now lie in a tinsel-covered heap as much as I wish. 

Watching Christmas films curled up under approx. 14 blankets and surrounded by séance-levels of candles. 

Abbeydale Park Rise Christmas lights in Sheffield. Right near where my dad lives, there’s a street that transforms itself into a winter wonderland. Every tree, every front garden, is covered in lights and decorations; there’s so many lights that it looks like a landing strip when looking at it from the top of the valley. We have to go see it every year, otherwise it’s not Christmas. 

The moment I arrive at my mum & step-dads on Christmas eve. Walking straight into the kitchen to the smells of mum's cooking and pulling off my jumper because she has the heating, fire and about a million candles going. 

Christmas morning and my mum still going ‘shall we see if Santa’s been?” despite the fact that her youngest child is 22.  

Mum’s Christmas dinner. Homemade stuffing, gravy, actual Yorkshire pudding (a slab of; don’t give me this Aunt Bessie crap)…  yeah, my whole mouth just filled with saliva. 

Chicken and stuffing left over sandwiches. Sweet diggity. 

That weird limbo between Christmas and new year where you live on the sofa, surrounded by blankets and leftover food, with Chicken Run playing on ITV. 

When everywhere and everyone just looks like a more chipper, sparklier version of themselves.