"Mr Potter, You Old Fart", was what George meant to say.

It has happened. It was snowing hard in Bedford Falls. Mary Bailey had rallied round the good townsfolk and they came up with the required funds to make up the unfortunate deficit at the Savings and Loans. George Bailey looked at his small ginger hair daughter and thanked Clarence, his guardian angel to the sound of a bell tinkling on the tree.

I cried. I always cry.

The spirit and meaning of Christmas has at last arrived for me late in the evening before Christmas Eve. Only two more sleeps to go, as they say. It takes something special to break throught the stupifying and numbing influences on the mind and body that are an inevitable consequence of modern working life and of a commercial hijacking of the true meaning of the celebration of Christmas. Supermarket aisles stocked from October with selection boxes, tins of  biscuits, bombay mix, twiglets, chocolate reindeer, santa's and snowmen. Canned music from every angle.

The unseasonably warm autumn weather caused me to seek out a throw-away-all-in-one barbecue for a balmy weeekend afternoon. I could not get one but no problem at all to get 3 for the price of 2 festively packaged cheesy nibbles. I have not been coasting through the build up to the celebratory feast. I have been trying sincerely to instill myself with the spirit of Christmas.

There has been a lot to do around the house to prepare for the return of the full compliment of the family. Painting, decorating, tidying, ruthless de-junking, in and out of the garage, down to the Civic Amenity site where a lot of men dressed as Santa seem to work.

There are other triggers to activate the meaning of Christmas. I witnessed the lighting of the first candle on the Advent Crown at church but as yet I have not sung any Carols which is a bit disappointing. Apparently I am a bit of an Anglo Catholic and we adhere strictly to the Advent hymns until Christmas Eve. We will be going down the road from the new house to the Christmas morning service if the building survives the onslaught of revellers the night before. The church is slap bang in the middle of the party circuit and does get a bit of a hammering from the hammered. 

Our  tree, carefully selected on the basis of a good strong Nordic profile is starting to exude the natural pine smell when prompted.. Boxes and bags of decorations and trimmings were brought down from the loft. The fridge and freezer cleared and cleaned. It is surprising how much room a turkey in a carrier bag takes up,.

The children, well young adults, are now all present and renewing their family ties and bonds that have been stretched by distance and life pressures. It is great to hear them talking, laughing and sharing their individual experiences for which we are all better off. We are just about prepared.

Above all we are thankful for the position we are in at a time of much austerity and recession on our doorstep. It is a time for family, friendship and taking stock of what we have of true value and worth in our lives.