What Christmas feels like to me...

Christmas smells of tangerines. For me, at least. For my Colombian husband, the smell of tangerines reminds him of the doormen in apartment blocks in Bogotá. Tangerines, mandarins, clementines - does anyone know the difference?

Christmas used to be the sound of sellotape. We didn't need Santa Claus; my mum was miraculous enough.  Hard at work running the lighting shop, or masterminding the impressive nativity at church, she wouldn't get around to packing our presents until Christmas Eve. My brother and I would listen to the crackle of tape late into the night, too excited to sleep.  

In the morning we'd feel a thrilling weight at the end of our beds. Our stockings were a pair of 40 denier black tights; a bulging boa constrictor full of surprises. We would unwrap our presents on our parents' cosy bed, which seemed gigantic back then.  At the bottom, there was always an orange.   

Christmas tastes of my Auntie Keri's perfect roast potatoes. Crisp on the outside, creamy on the inside. Christmas tastes of caramelised parsnips and those little sausages wrapped in bacon. It tastes of turkey too, though that has always seemed the least important ingredient to me. Christmas tastes of Stilton and Port, because it's the only time I eat Stilton and drink Port.

This year Christmas will taste three times as good.  We'll be celebrating a Colombian-style Christmas with lechona on Christmas Eve, a British Christmas Day in Wales with turkey, and for The Three Kings on 6th January, we'll be eating a paella cooked outside by my Uncle and Aunt in Spain.

Christmas is the sight of some of my favourite people altogether; of friends we haven't seen in a long time, and family we wish didn't live so far away. It's familiar faces sitting around the table, lifting their glasses, and saying Cheers! Salud! Salut! - to what has been, and to what is to come; to all our absent friends and family; and to all those sharing today. In the end, it's never about the stuff as much as the feeling. I hope, wherever you are, whoever you're with, Christmas brings with it a good, good, feeling.


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5 BRILLIANT Christmas Gifts which are not pointless at all

Yay, Christmas! The time of year where we spend loads of money on stuff we don't need while half the planet struggles to make ends meet. God Bless us everyone! Well, not everyone obviously, just the ones lucky enough to be born in the right place at the right time. All I'm saying is, why not let us buy sensible presents? You know it makes sense.

After careful research I've selected five simultaneously fun and practical gifts for the Christmas seasons. I know you're bound to fall in love with one of them...

1. FOR THE TODDLER

How many times have you heard parents say it? Oh, little bubs here, he has more fun with the box than the really expensive present we bought him! 

SO WHY DON'T THEY EVER JUST BUY THE BOX? Every year parents waste money pimping up the box with really expensive brightly coloured plastic bits, when for a couple of quid they could just buy what bubs really, really wants. Wrap it up of course. A present isn't a present if it's not wrapped up.

2. FOR THE CAT

If your cat is scratching your sofa it's because it's trying to tell you something, you're just being too thick to understand it. 

YOUR CAT WANTS TO BE A DJ. No, it doesn't want a boring old post. Would you want to scratch a stick? No! Buy poor kitty some decks and let her fulfill her dreams this Christmas.

3. FOR THE NEW PARENTS

Most parents with small kids are knackered. This is because they are not delegating properly. This present helps parents feel less guilty about getting their baby to chip in with the housework. Dribble. Polish. Dribble. Polish. This present will light up their lives and their living rooms.

4. YOUR ORGANIC FRIEND

I'm not taking the piss. I am one of these organic-free-range-save-the-world people. But if like me, you've grown bored of trying and *failing (*forgetting) to cultivate the chili seeds given to you free with your bill at Wahaca, then maybe it's time to sweeten up your horticultural experience with mini donut seeds. 

You'll benefit from the gift too because the donuts should be ready in time for Christmas next year when your organic friend is bound to invite you to a mouth-watering meal! RESULT.

5.  FOR YOUR ANNOYINGLY BUSY FRIEND

For your friend who is OMG so busy, accept it, it's probably too late for them to change. If you buy them roses they'll be too busy to smell them. These bread gloves may be enabling their hurry hurry lifestyles, or it might stop them in their tracks, and think, maybe I should stop and eat a proper lunch because maybe life is too short to eat sandwiches every day. 

Either way, it's definitely memorable. Who can forget their first bread gloves?





If none of these are suitable, then you could buy my book instead. It's suitable for reading, holding a door open or starting a fire on a cosy Christmas evening. Unless its the 99p kindle version, in which please do not burn but dispose of responsibly.

If you'd like a signed copy, you can buy direct from me via Paypal. All books will be sent out 1st class on 19th December. Book plus UK postage cost £9.99

I should put a button here but it's not working plus it charges me money and I'm trying to keep things cheap for you. If you're familiar with paypal then you know all you need is my email emily@emilybenet.com to transfer £9.99 for each book. I will reply immediately. Promise.




For a less commercial Christmas post, take a peek at Emily Benet's Advent Calendar. 

Stocking Filling Tips for Christmas!

HAVE A WONDERFUL CHRISTMAS LOVELY READERS AND THANK YOU FOR ALL YOUR SUPPORT OVER THE YEAR! 

All I want for Christmas is an Rr

My nephew received a letter from Santa yesterday, reassuring him of his existence. He also received a certificate to prove he had made the NICE List.

 

"I am aware that you are now seven and other children might be telling you I'm not real..." Santa wrote. "But to keep the Christmas magic alive and help me get all the Christmas presents to everyone, YOU MUST BELIEVE... Christmas magic is like the wind, you can't see it, but it's real." At that moment, my nephew reported that a huge gust of wind had banged against the window, making the whole family jump. So there you are, proof that Santa exists.

 

My husband's nerd magazine (Focus) is a little more cynical. It says that to deliver presents to 200 million children in 800 million homes spread over 3x10¹³m² of land, Father Christmas would have to go at such a speed that the air resistance would vaporise him and all the presents with him.

 

Back to the magic! I say. Since magic is the only way I'm going to get what I want for Christmas. You'll never guess what it is, so I'll tell you. I want to be able to roll my Rs. Do you know how humiliating it is to be half Spanish and half Welsh, and be unable to roll one's Rs? I doubt it.

 

I want to be able to shout out: Rrrround the Rrrrugged Rrrrock a Rrragged Rrrascal Rrran! and Erre con erre cigarro, erre con erre barril, rapido ruedan los carros, por los rieles del ferrocarril!

 

All my life I've avoided talking about perros. DOGS. And burros. DONKEYS. It was hard because sometimes I really wanted to talk about these creatures. If I wanted yummy churros... well, I just pointed. It's not that people can't understand me, they can, but when I was little the other kids laughed at me. And they laughed into my teens too. "Say dog, Emily! Say dog, Emily!" I remember bursting into tears because I was SO frustrated. I tried, but I just couldn't roll them. Years later I watched a YouTube video with exercises for my tongue. But after my mother in law happened to talk to a therapist one day, who said that at my age it was unlikely I'd ever learn, I gave up.  

 

To be honest, I thought I'd stop caring, until a grown up laughed at me the other day. Then it brought it all up. I felt stupid. I also felt sure I sounded stupid to everyone too. Why else would they find it so funny? Was I destined to sound stupid all my life?

 

So that's what I want for Christmas please, Father Christmas. I'd like to roll my Rs so when your sleigh lifts off I can shout ARRRRRRRIBA! And if the magic bit isn't real and the nerd magazine is right, please can you slow down a bit so you don't get vaporised. Thank you!

 

 

 

 

 

Other posts you might enjoy:

 

I Married a Foreigner

A Flawed Character

Turning 30... or AM I?

 

 

Christmas Spirit and Olives

Christmas coupled with a Closing Down Sale makes life very busy.

My finger tips are sore after manic crystal pinning and I can barely zip up my vital fourth fleece which protects me from the arctic temperatures of our shop.

Fond memories of a nail salon in Bogotá come to mind and I push them away.

My hands currently resemble those of Santa’s great grandmother.

I’m not complaining. I love it when it’s busy like this.

When all the shop crew are together I feel happy.

There’s great banter and team work when Alfie is building lamps, Papa is throwing massive boxes down the stairs and Petra is laying out rows of crystal to pin. When Mum is going the extra mile by cleaning a half-price chandelier and I’m relishing the thought of a new space on the ceiling.

We’ve been working late to get our jobs done and on Thursday we reward ourselves with a bottle of wine and upgrade from a jar of Crespo olives to a superior pot of marinated ones.

It’s the little things in life, after all.

The little oily, herby things.

People believe we are closing now. Old customers bring us in chocolates and promise a drink that probably won't happen (but how nice anyway).

To make things a little more hectic, the Fiancé and I move north.

North of the river, that is.

I finally get the chance to be excited about having my own chandeliers.

Each time I come into the living room, I look up at the sparkly crystals and feel uplifted.

We get our first Christmas tree as soon as we move in and name it ‘Pepe the Great’.

We bring it home and find that its trunk is teeming with bugs.

The Fiancé grabs deodorant and a lighter, and the flames roar as he torches all the little beasties.

The smell is amazing. Pepe is less impressed.

Back at the shop, Christmas takes the form of a little bark crib in the window, complete with a mini fire that lights up.

Everyone wants to buy it.

“Sorry, I’m inheriting it,” I tell them.

What am I going to do after the shop?

The best I can!

As ever, at this time of year, I’m thinking it’s time for a revolution in my life.

Sometimes you get lost in the flow and you make excuses for not achieving your goals.

Lately I’ve been unable to get up early or squeeze writing time in at night.

I’ve been feeding my inner Spartan mince pies and half price sparkling wine and it’s all been very cosy.

The thing is, all the films on telly are insisting I spread the festive cheer and believe in Santa so his sleigh can take off.

I wouldn’t want to be a Bah! Humbug!

So...Ho ho ho, I think I’ll let the Christmas spirit bubble for the time being.

When January comes, a new story will begin.

A Very New Year for Shop Girl

Merry belated Christmas!
I hope your sock drawer has been replenished.
Mine has.
My current socks have grey stars on them.
They had grey stars on them yesterday too.
And the day before.
In fact I don't know why I'm still wearing the same ones. I could've put the spotty ones on instead.
Writing at Christmas is heavy going.
Too much food.
Today it's been twiglets. I can't get enough of them.
The New Year on the other hand promises lots of constructive activity.
Exciting things are on the horizon.
No don't be silly, the shop isn't going quite yet.
Give it till March.
But Shop Girl is.
I'm flying off in a new direction.
"How will you write if you aren't in the shop?" people cry.
The shop has been an indispensable source of inspiration for my writing this year but I'm almost certain I can continue writing if I'm not there.
Erase 'almost'.
I'm leaving home too and moving in with an artist friend somewhere in London.
We're registering with an organisation which looks after empty properties and rents them out cheap.
Tomorrow we'll stick pins in a map.
It's not voodoo; it's optimism.
The time has come for me to look for my next plot.
I can't wait to wake up in the morning and think: "Today I can write all day!"
Soon I shall be broke and looking for a new job.
Doing what?
I've no idea.
This New Year is going to be an adventure for more than just me.
One of my favourite characters, cousin Rosie, is heading off around the world and I want to wish her good luck.
As for me I've no intention of abandoning this blog.
It's been an amazing year but the Shop Girl story is far from over.