Merry Kitschmas

Apparently there is a phrase for households where the Christmas tree goes up too early: premature treejaculation. But when is too early? The generally accepted watershed seems to be the first of December but I am sure that is an arbitrary judgement. We may as well accept that anything goes these days. Last week I was in a large supermarket chain where they were selling hot cross buns one aisle down from the Christmas merchandise. That’s just wrong. I’m not a Christian but even I bulk at the idea of celebrating Jesus death at the same time as his birth. Give the guy a break.

Christmas creep is all around us. Some of it is, I confess, quite pretty. At Claremont House where we went walking today they had some very nice trees and lights. A visit to the nearby Garsons Farm however was just too much, with several acres of floor space given over to baubles, bangles and beads of lighting in every possible colour combination. And a large pink dog wearing a golden crown. Seriously. I don’t remember seeing that in a grotto near me but perhaps Santa has gone down the diversity route and is letting other animals have a go at pulling his sleigh. I’m all for that but someone needs to explain these things in advance and not just spring them on me when I’m tired. It’s just too kitsch by half.