Bah Humbug - It's December again! 14 days to go!

Sunday 11th December.

The second Sunday in Advent. Shouldn't I have stirred the Christmas pudding by now?

For an insight into Christmas Pudding, here's something I wrote earlier.

Incidentally, I have not seen any Christmas puddings in the supermarket this year. Maybe no-one wants to eat pudding. Luckily, I know somewhere that will sell them. But, I am not venturing there on a Sunday.

Unlike many European cities and the UK, Singapore is a thriving centre of commerce on a Sunday. It is the day when everyone practises the national sport - window shopping. Not window-shopping in a purposeful manner. Not window-shopping at a pace that allows me to either overtake or, at least, remain at a safe distance.

No, this is window shopping where I trip over everyone around me, in my attempt to conclude my actual shopping.

Sadly for me, this Sunday necessitated a venture into the super expensive expat shopping mall to purchase some printer toner. It was convenient. I was on the way home from tutoring, and the expensive mall was sitting there, beckoning me in all its consumeristic glitz.

Only hiccup - the shop didn't have the toner in stock. Silly me, I should have resorted to ordering online - free next day delivery.

While I was there, I made an attempt to avoid the fairy lights that require a second mortgage to purchase, I avoided the French bakery that even a Parisian would baulk at. I pretty much avoided everything that involved spending money.

But then, I became distracted. I tried to walk past the pop up Christmas shop. But like the kids that followed the Pied Piper of Hamelin, I was lured, lured into a cavernous area of Christmas tut. Tut that King Tut would have no doubt rejected, looking at the price tags. Really?

And for those of you, unfamiliar with the Pied Piper of Hamelin, by Robert Browning ...

I know we have an obligation to pay more, so that workers making these pagan baubles earn a decent wage. But, I have to ask myself, how much of this really goes to them, and how much is lining the pockets of purveyors of this artificial finery?

Goodness, day 11 of December and I am developing extreme Bah Humbugedness.

Now, where are the Christmas puddings?

Bah Humbug - It's December again! 15 days to go!

Saturday 10th December. Another weekend in December. And I have an assignment to submit on Monday. That rules out any Christmas shopping. But then, who wants to go Christmas shopping at the weekend?

No, after tutoring, I hurried home ...

I was excited. My oven saga was coming to a close.

I was going to use the repaired oven for the first time this evening!

I had to get home and prepare for the momentous, almost historic occasion. I would have an oven for Christmas afterall.

The moment of truth arrived. I switched the programme on to number 4, stood back and admired the fact my oven was now working.

Meanwhile, I prepared the meal.

Out of the corner of my eye, the oven light flashed, or did it twinkle in unison with the fairy lights on my Alt-tree? Whatever, this was exciting stuff. My oven was on its test drive for Christmas.

As with all test drives, there are hiccups.

After 30 minutes, the oven was still barely warm. Something was not quite right. After an hour, the oven was at 170 degrees. Hardly hot enough for my dish and oven french fries.

The rain was teeming down outside, so no recourse to the barbeque. But there's an idea for roasting, if I can find the twirly whirly thing that spit roasts meat.

Frustrated, we grilled the meat and grilled the french fries. It was an interesting experience.

I wrote an email to the supplier. Thank goodness I had not paid them. There is always a purpose in holding back on payment, until someone comes after you with a huge stick or something ...

Bah flipping Humbug. The picture in my mind of a succulent roast turkey, roast potatoes and parsnips grew hazy.

No use calling anyone to "á table!" when there's nothing to eat. This is worse than Bob Cratchit's house.

How am I going to cook for Christmas now?

Bah Humbug! It's December, again - 1 more day to go

Last minute Christmas shopping

My last minute Christmas shopping had nothing to do with gift shopping. I had done that ages ago, and as I mentioned, I had conducted most of my shopping online. That way I avoided having to interact with anyone, get shoved around by people who should know better - where is that purported Christmas spirit? What happened to the general sense of being kind? 

Probably getting drunk down the pub.

Shopping online saved me the bother of leaving my home - so I had more time to write, illustrate and read, not to mention play with the cat who thinks he is the cousin of the mayor of Barnaul in Russia. Or is that the cat that thinks he is the mayor?

My shopping foray involved collecting a vacuum packed pre-roasted turkey - because I do not want to spend four hours trying to roast the thing and another four hours cleaning out the oven. So, I outsourced that part. I also picked up some fruit - not typical Christmas fruit - strawberries and raspberries, and some Scottish smoked salmon and New Zealand free range eggs. 

"I thought you needed vegetables?" my eldest son enquired, rather concerned that tomorrow's lunch would be a balanced meal - I could make it balanced without vegetables by placing the turkey on a set of scales, but that would just be stupid.

Vegetables were purchased on Tuesday and Wednesday, when they were displayed fresh and are now chilled in the bottom of the fridge. 

My eldest son had even bought his brother a Christmas present at the end of November (I hid it in the bomb shelter). Ironic that my eldest son. The main perpetrator of Bah Humbugishness in our household, should go to the trouble of finding a gift for his brother.

And so, today, Christmas Eve, my son and I shopped like a couple of men - we made a bee-line for what we needed, worked in tandem at the self-checkout, and marched back to the car. Done and dusted in less than an hour door to door.

But that is where I think my son is the exception. I am convinced that Christmas Eve is the day that men (there, I am being sexist), suddenly realise that they should have bought a gift. They rush out in some mad panic, pick up fifteen gifts that have no real relevance or meaning whatsoever to the person or persons they are purchasing for and pay for a wrapping service, because, men just don't wrap gifts. 

There were men everywhere. Well, of course, it is normal to find men about the place. But so many? And most of them with children in tow or being carried. Where did they all come from? What was their mad rush around the supermarket and shopping mall in aid of? 

I only hoped that my favourite, privately-owned toyshop was not beset by more of these pseudo-families who choose not to read the notice: "please do not take the toys out of the box", "please do not remove the boxes from the top shelf, they are on display below" and, "please be careful when replacing the boxes not to knock any other items on the floor. Once broken they cannot be sold".

Yes, I was rather taken aback the other day when a couple came in with their child who wanted everything, he wanted to touch everything, he wanted to open each thing and put it on the floor and play with it. All in spite of the request of the shop owner, who was more than polite. It is at times like these; I am glad I do not own a physical shop. I sell through Etsy, so all my stuff is online. No one can touch it, dirty it, or break it. Phew.

Now, back to gift wrapping. Actually, there are youtube videos of people wrapping gifts; you can watch them for hours and hours on end. But somehow, I can think of better things to watch than presents I shall not receive being wrapped by someone I shall probably never meet.

DOWN THE CHIMNEY ©

Mum blushed, and wiped her hands all dry,

‘I wonder, Santa, if I might pry,

Whether in your ample sack,

A Christmas pud there’s packed?

Santa wiped his face all clean,

A sparkle in his eye did gleam,

I’ve got the toys, a new robot,

And the pud that Mum forgot.

Bah Humbug, tomorrow is Christmas Day!

Bah Humbug. It's December again - and the NASA countdown!

Bah Humbug, it's 20th December.

That means one thing - NASA countdown time - 5 (days to go).

Being a Saturday, I was ready to go out to tutor in the afternoon, but it was cancelled. Maybe my pupil needed to do some urgent Christmas shopping? After all, the Saturday before Christmas has now got a name: Panic Saturday.

I am not sure why, as every day seems to have been a panic over the last month when I have ventured out - as I mentioned, I hate going out and "milling around" in amongst the crowds of people who are not quite sure what they are shopping for, but they know they need to get something.

So, "Panic Saturday" - I went to the post office.

What madness you ask? I even asked myself! I took a book in case I had to stand in the queue for a long time. If you read my post about queues, you will understand why I took a book.

Surprisingly, the post office as no busier than on a normal Saturday and the ladies behind the counter as grumpy as ever until you smile at them.

Why was I going to the post office? I had sold a book from my Etsy store: The Balloon Ride. The story of the first passenger balloon flight, that took a duck, a chicken and a donkey up into the air. I could do with a balloon occasionally to fly over everyone in my way.

The advantage of not having to tutor, for my son anyway, is that I become a taxi. Not an Uber Taxi, but a Mum Taxi. And off he went to a climbing and mega-zip line party. Perfect boy stuff for the start of the school holiday and a break for my eldest son who got some "on-my-own" time.

The prospect that there may not be many people around at one of the shopping malls, drew me to go and buy chocolate and wrapping paper. I had run out of the latter and you can't have Christmas without chocolate. Fairly straight forward. Until I decided to try out the supermarket.

Oh goodness me! $99.99 for a box of cherries! $18.50 for a medium sized carton of strawberries!

How can anyone afford such luxuries?

I left in haste and went home to make myself a cup of green tea.


BAH HUMBUG
They'll just have to eat apples instead.

Bah Humbug. It's December again - only a week to go!!

Bah Humbug, it's 18th December .

Only a week left - that isn't even 7 days because everyone has a half day on Christmas Eve.

I need to order the turkey - Oh no! I haven't done that yet.

Nothing for it, I have to forego writing today and get out into the melee of Christmas shoppers.

I suppose there is only so much you can do on line, and as I proved last week, that is not very much.

Today I leave you with a cat in a bag - certainly not let out yet. Although he does have this tendency to venture next door and play with the dog. I think he has an identity crisis going on.

Nevertheless, he appears to be one member of my household who knows what he wants for Christmas.


This is the cat the likes to play with water and stick his head under the tap. I think he is hoping that I have purchased a nicely cat-scented gift for him to use in the shower.

I haven't the heart to tell him that The Body Shop is for humans, not cats, but the red bag makes a great adventure toy and it makes him think that it is Christmas every day. Rather like fresh chicken for dinner.

The Christmas tree spat out some more gifts this evening, a fair number of which I hope will be a pleasant surprise.

Yet another reason to keep the cat in the bag, rather than out of the bag. Surprise Christmas gifts.

Good job I bought some more wrapping paper there might be a lot of bag-less cats running around

He's even put his white socks on.

BAH HUMBUG

My goodness Ikea looked like it had been eaten by locusts.

Bah Humbug. It's December again - 12 days to Christmas

Bah Humbug, it's 13th December and I only have 12 days to sort everything out before everyone stuffs themselves, gets buried under a landfill of torn up and scrunched up wrapping paper that could have been recycled if only they hadn't ripped it off.

I realised that it was this day last year that I ventured into the cavernous maze of Vivo City shopping mall. You get the sense that it should be full of life and Spanish music. Which of course it is not. It is always full of people and booming echoes. Nothing like a lively shopping area in the south of Spain.

This year, by sheer co-incidence, I did not go back to Vivo, instead, I ventured along Orchard Road, - rather like Oxford Street on any day. I ventured out early to beat the crowds, get the whole rigmarole of shopping out of the way early, and thereby minimise my chance of having to queue, which I eloquently bah-humbugged about yesterday.

I targeted the Paragon shopping centre, for numerous reasons. Mostly because I had become rather weary with waiting on the phone for 37 minutes and then not getting an answer to my query to that I could purchase the item on line. It appears that shopping on line is really not a substitute for walking into a shop and having a face to face interaction with a real person. A prime example of why queues are not going anywhere, fast

The name Paragon, always strikes me as a strange name for a shopping centre. One normally associates the idea of paragon with someone of extreme virtue, merit or excellence. Personally, I do not find parting with obscene amounts of cash in a glitzy shopping centre to be either virtuous, merit-worthy nor excellent.

Not unexpectedly, I still had to queue at my final destination. But until that particular retail outlet lifted its shutters to blast an overly-zealous welcome to our store in my ear when I was trying to read a book - I was not going to be outdone by the waste-of-time-queue-monster - I decided to run some other errands in some of the shops that were open.

That is easier said than done.

Like last year, this place of shopping seemed to be filled with humans who were shoaling. Shoaling like fish, not Shaolin' like the Kung Fu monks. Everywhere I turned, semi-vacant individuals meandered around shops, not really with a purpose, almost as if they have been brainwashed to enter a shop, wander around and then purchase something of non-descript purpose, to wrap up and pass off as a well-thought out gift to someone they are not sure why they are buying a gift for in the first place. It might also have been that it was fairly early on a Saturday morning.

Nevertheless, when humans mill, shoal or even peregrinate, (there is a good word, meaning to travel or journey on foot, which is exactly what they are doing, gyrating around the shopping aisles and displays, on foot) they seem to morph into a state of oblivion of the world or anyone else around them. That was rather a lengthy and complex sentence but it captures the rigmarole of trying to avoid these quasi-shoppers. Unaware, they gravitate into my walking trajectory and block my way down aisles that make you feel like you entered the rubbish crusher in Star Wars. Where is Yoda when you need him?


All of this invariably leads to me muttering under my breath about awareness. I seem to remember the same thing happening when I went to buy milk on Tuesday. No wonder Neil Gaiman ended up on an adventure when he went out to buy a pint of milk. Fortunately the Milk, great book

Once again, as I sat awaiting my turn to be called from the digital voice linked to the linear queue system, last year's tongue twister came to mind: 

A Singapore Shopping Centre, Swimming with Shoaling Shoppers

Good job there were no sharks around.

BAH HUMBUG

Bah Humbug. It's December again - 19 Days until Christmas

Bah Humbug, it's 6th December, and we have reached the weekend. Where did the week go? 

There are too many stupid distractions when it isn't Christmas, and now Christmas fever is hitting our overly commercialised minds, there are even more. I really need a brain the size of the Universe to stuff everything in.

After the regular Christmas tree light upgrade, the decorating of the tree - oh whoops, I have another whole box I overlooked - I actually got the Christmas cards written - an old-fashioned custom of getting in touch with people that you have probably forgotten throughout the year - and posted. Important that they were posted yesterday as Singapore has decided not to handle post on a Saturday while at the same time increasing the cost of postage.

Is it my imagination or has the cost of living, and more especially Christmas increased this year? I mean, $20 for a box of cherries in the supermarket and not much cheaper in the wet market (fruit & veg).

All of which leads me on to the wise words of wisdom of my teenage son who is fast rejecting the commercialisation and sensationalising of festive occasions - that should be respected for what they were originally meant to represent. He has suggested a budget of $50 per gift, per person this year. I am not sure that will necessarily be achieved, nevertheless, it will leave my pocket with less holes and the pockets of retailers and large manufacturers less fat.

As for me, I have decided to make my own gifts, and support independent - indie - bookstores and creators. So I shall buy books and purchase gifts, where possible, from smaller creators of useful items or organisations that need people to support them.

So, for anyone looking for some great gift ideas, books for kids and other cool stuff, take a look at the latest: Eric and the Volcano on Etsy:

Save some money this year and support small and local businesses.

Say:
BAH HUMBUG
To the big guys.

Bah Humbug. It's December again - 20 days until Christmas

Bah Humbug, it's 5th December, and this year a Friday. 

I haven't sent out the Christmas cards - still - actually I haven't even written them, but then again no one seems to bother these days. A sad tradition lost. 

Old Christmas cards were particularly useful - you could recycle them as gift tags, props for an uneven desk leg or chair, folded up they make excellent door stops, even drink coasters. 

Maybe I should write a book on the revival of the recyclable Christmas card? 

20 days to go? Did I mention that already?

I haven't even sorted out Christmas gifts. Then there's food and who to invite.

As I start my morning in a ponder, I look up and see what Santa must see in quadruple or however many reindeer pull his sleigh, a fluffy reindeer butt.

The mere sight of it, really just is not quite right. No wonder Santa sings out, 'Ho, ho, ho!'

I wonder if they painted a butt on the back of the Virgin Traindeer?

BAH HUMBUG

The Tenth Day Before Christmas - Bah Humbug

Bah Humbug, it's 15th December, 10 days to go. Rather like a rocket countdown.

Which brings me to the subject of China putting a rabbit or rather a rover called rabbit on the moon. I thought Rover was a dog, a Tolkien Dog that ended up living for a while on the moon with another dog called Rover and so he had to change his name to Roverandum.

A wonderful short video of Roverandum meeting the man in the moon.




BAH HUMBUG: Three hours wandering around a shopping mall, jammed with shoaling shoppers while we waited our turn to collect a couple of new phones and a few other nicknacks. And then it rained.

You see, this is why this time of year is such a nightmare - I should say Bah Humbug, again. Shoaling shoppers, rain, traffic, over-priced items, pressure to purchase what you don't really need and a cacophony of Christmas songs.

The Tweflth Day Before Christmas - Bah Humbug

A trip to Vivo City, strange cavernous shopping mall that booms and echoes and causes total sensory overload. A place to get lost in - yes I got sort of lost, but found a shop selling chocolates, which was not what I was looking for. In fact, the shop I went to find had - closed down. 

Bah Humbug or what?

So, I battled my way around Ikea instead. It was swimming with people not really shopping, just milling around, more shoaling than schooling in fish-like circles.

There's a thought: a tongue twister: 

A Singapore Shopping Centre, Swimming with Shoaling Shoppers

Shoaling fish move around independently but together in a connected manner, where as schooling fish, move in a co-ordinated manner.

Shoaling fish forage for food. Schooling fish move in a tighter formation and use this as a means of protecting themselves against giant or other predators, unless of course it's a trawler net.


Rather informative little video I found about this:

BAH HUMBUG

Well, I ran out of 12 days of Christmas because the 12 days start from Christmas Day, not from 1st December. I knew that anyway, so I suppose veggies might be a good idea instead? I'll wait until Christmas to post those.....


Note to self, count 12 days after Christmas Day and mark it down to dismantle the Christmas tree. Goodness, dismantling a tree? In the efforts to be eco-friendly, we now dismantle trees rather than chop them up and put them on the fire.

The Fifteenth Day Before Christmas - Bah Humbug

Bah Humbug, it's 10th December. Oh goodness, only 14 days to go. I better get out and sort out some gifts - oh no I hate Christmas shopping, too many people, too much shoving and too much music.

What do you get boys and men who simply have everything? How could they get to this age and have everything they really want? Apart from a hanging seat.

Light bulb moment - The Science Centre Curiosity Shop. There must be something there......

A few hours later and my wallet a tad lighter - must be the light bulb.

An incandescent light bulb uses an electric filament to create light. They are not very efficient, only converting about 5% of the electricity into light. Gradually incandescent bulbs are being replaced by other types of bulbs, such as fluorescent bulbs or LEDs.

A light bulb moment is one of those moments of enlightenment, a flash of inspiration. Just like a light switching on in your brain.

BAH HUMBUG

I wonder if the 10 lords leaped over the light bulb, or leaped because they had a sudden "moment".