James Proclaims!

As I write this, it is still very much Christmas Eve, but as with all of my ‘Christmas Day Messages’ this will hit the blogosphere at 3pm, so as to coincide with the televised speech of our current monarch, which in 2025 is King Charles III. It’s something of a one-sided rivalry I have with the monarchy, but I’m glad I haven’t put Charles off. If he puts the effort in, he might catch me up one day.

As I’m writing this a day in advance, I’m not currently caught up in the preparations for the Christmas feast. As ever we’ll be having salmon at Proclaims Towers – generally this is a family favourite and we’ve all enjoyed it during Christmas dinners past. Alas, this year Little Proclaims has decided that she doesn’t like salmon anymore. This is potentially an obstacle to the merry meal I’m hoping for. Unfortunately she doesn’t really like any of the alternatives I’ve suggested, so I think she will have to endure the pink fish as per every other Christmas she’s ever celebrated. She does generally like vegetables and roast potatoes, so she won’t starve, but my eldest daughter has a tendency to be rather belligerent when she is less than satisfied with the service she receives from the staff of Hotel Proclaims. Unfortunately as the staff are her parents, they tend not to take the view that ‘the customer is always right’. I dread to imagine the review she would write for Trip Advisor, but at the same time, as a parent who encourages literacy in his children, I would quite like her to write it nonetheless.

At the time of writing, the Christmas dinner debate is very much ‘tomorrow’s problem’ and as a family we’re enjoying the traditional Christmas Eve fare. Which mainly consists of Quality Street and Pringles.

I’m able to write this a day early because I seem to be unusually ahead in terms of preparations for the big day. The presents were mainly bought and wrapped in October, I did the last of the food-buying at 6am this morning, before the last-minute Christmas Eve crowds swamped the supermarket, and even my annual deep clean of Proclaims Towers is significantly ahead of schedule. The house is, of course, still a complete bombsite, because I live with small children. But it’s the kind of temporary clutter than can be solved through the (mainly theoretical) exercise of ‘putting things away’. Underneath the debris, all surfaces and floors have been wiped, vacuumed or mopped.

As much as I enjoy Christmas, one of the best things about its arrival is the fact that I no longer need to prepare for it. A particular highlight in recent years has also been the release from the daily grind of ‘elf-hiding’. See my earlier post on this particular festive chore. As per the ‘tradition’, the ‘shelf-elf’ leaves when Santa arrives and according to my understanding, the big man will be popping down the chimney tonight.

With my festive endeavours being so uncharacteristically on schedule, I find myself enjoying the nice bit of Christmas Eve, able to relax with glass of something medicinal and in anticipation of a magical family Christmas full of joy and festive cheer.

That Christmas will not actually happen of course.

What will happen is a mad flurry of present opening at stupid o’clock in the morning, which will render all of my previous efforts at cleaning largely moot, as my children decorate the house in discarded wrapping paper and packaging. Then I will spend hours slaving in the kitchen to produce a feast that already seems to be on course to be rejected vociferously by my eldest daughter.

Fortunately there are two bottles of sparkling wine chilling in the fridge and a bottle of Baileys on the worktop ready to help me find my cheer in the face of all the likely obstacles.

I will have a Merry Christmas, and wherever you are and whatever you are doing, I hope you have a Merry Christmas too.