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

There are no chimneys in Singapore

Actually, I probably lie, there are chimneys in Singapore, but not ones connected to fireplaces. Theoretically, I am probably lying again, but I argue that these fireplaces, feeding the chimneys that do exist, are not the chimneys and fireplaces meant for Santa, nor for roasting chestnuts around.

So, supermarkets, will you please cease and desist from playing Nat King Cole with his chestnuts around the open fire. Not least because it would be considered dangerous and contrary to health and safety.

And so, back to chimneys again.

The origin of Santa Claus climbing down the chimney is shared by many Europeans, and is thought to have originated from a Norse tradition. Odin entered homes on the winter solstice, climbing down chimneys or smoke holes to mark the beginning of winter.

In old traditions, the hearth (or fireplace stone) was believed to be sacred and a place that brought the family together. And the 17^th century Dutch artist Jan Steen painted a family looking up the chimney at Christmas. Which shows that Santa Claus was climbing down chimneys all over the world.

St Nicholas, as many like to call him, visited houses at Christmas, throwing coins in through open windows, however, when the windows were locked, he would throw coins down the chimney instead. 

Most likely, he found the door locked.

As winter was cold and freezing, St. Nicholas was eventually welcomed into houses, and children would leave nuts and fruit for him. It was probably around 1800 that Santa Claus and clambering down the chimney was exported to the US and the rest is commercialised - Bah Humbug.

As I finish my bah-humbugish commercialisation of chimneys, there is the rather heated issue of how Santa and his immense mass, was able to squeeze down the chimney and avoid singeing his backside.

And so, here are the first two pages of a little ditty, sketched out and ready for publishing, next year ....

DOWN THE CHIMNEY ©

 

It’s Christmas Day, without the gifts,

Did Santa get our lists?

Dad said, ‘It’s cold, I’ll get a log,

While mother feeds the dog.’

I looked around the Christmas tree,

In search of gifts for me,

My brother searched with all his might,

There was nothing there in sight.

http://people.howstuffworks.com/culture-traditions/holidays-christmas/santa-chimney.htm

http://www.americanchimneyservices.com/katy/117-the-history-of-santa-claus-and-chimneys.html

http://www.unmuseum.org/santa.htm

Bah Humbug - It's December again! 23 days to go!

Stupid robotic lights

The tree was delivered in a thunderstorm. I wonder if that has some ominous Odin-like portent?

Ah, well, if it does, then we'll either get hammered this Christmas, or it will be a Loki affair - (oh my goodness, what puns and for this time of the morning!).

Instead of filling the house with the arresting aroma (not the alliteration there - just for my students), a dank rankness of rotting wood (oh such onomatopoeia and I can still feel the dampness in my nostrils), wafted through the house. 

"What's that dead wood smell, Mum?"

Sigh, this was not what I was hoping for. I wanted to conjure up a scent from my childhood, and not one that was normally found in an overfilled nappy.

I couldn't put on the aircon to dry out the room, as the drainage pipe, embedded in a concrete wall had decided to leak last Friday.  I shall be buying the aircon a new drainage pipe for Christmas. I've never bought an object a Christmas present, but I suppose the world is becoming a funny place, and very soon, we'll be buying our own personalised robots gifts to keep them happy.

So, does that mean that there will be a robot Santa Claus? And do dead robots go to Calculator Heaven? Too much Red Dwarf.

What has all this got to do with lights?

My perennial hate, fairy lights - why on earth are they called fairy lights? There are no fairies in sight - unless you count the froufrou fairy who only wore feathers, and sat on top of the small fake tree my mother used as a hall table tree when I was growing up. No one liked her; she was just too froufrou.

The lights, well the icicle lights have let me down, as I mentioned.

The two reindeer are so disgusted, that whichever way you look at them, they are showing you their butts!

Back to the lights and the apparently tenuous robotic link, which in fact, is not that tenuous. Chasing Christmas lights, are programmed, controlled with a little box. Rather like a robot. 

Robotic lights on the Christmas tree, so it won't be long before we have talking decorations.

In true Christmas tree light fashion, and as a reminder that even robots will have to retire to calculator heaven one day, I cannot control the lights. There are eight options, none of which work, apart from one, mega flashy freaky light mode. That is on one set. 

The second set twinkles. OK, I can just about handle twinkling. 

The third set, yes a third set - it is a large (well relatively) tree - fades in and out. Gosh, that one is almost as mind-jarring as the first.

And then, there is the final set. The set I recently purchased from Ikea. Stupid time to shop in Ikea, Sunday afternoon. That is when half of Singapore goes to window shop as there is nothing better to do. Exit a grumpy ang moh lady from Ikea over an hour later. The final set doesn't do anything. It just doesn't match.

And, as if to make matters worse, I need to remember to turn all the lights off when I go out (they are on a timer), just in case they short and set fire to the tree.

I now have nightmares of Victorian Christmas trees, adorned with candles suddenly bursting into flames.

Maybe my son was had a point when he asked for no Christmas tree this year ...