It won’t be long now until we’re decking the halls with boughs of holly.

Grafton Street lights, Can’t wait until they’re up again.

I can’t believe it.

Despite being stuck in lockdown, time is flying by.

The days are getting longer, the old stretch in the evening has arrived. 

And despite Covid, some of us are thinking of those long summer days and maybe a week in Mayo or Kerry and then the leaves turning brown again and…

The thing is, I haven’t a damned thing done and now, well, now it’s almost upon us.

Christmas. I’m talking about Christmas.

When Friday rolls around there will be just 42 weeks left until Christmas.

That’s only 292 days to go – we passed through the 300 barrier last weekend.

Sure, in no time at all the Brown Thomas Christmas shop will be open and I’ll be in there (assuming Covid has gone and/or I’m vaccinated) buying baubles and other Christmassy stuff.

And I won’t be alone. 

Yes, I know there are people out there gagging at the very mention of the word.

I know there are people out there who think we shouldn’t be allowed to mention Christmas until December.

Even Ronan Collins – and I’m a huge fan – won’t play Christmas music until December 8. Sure I play it from October on. Well, October when I’m in the car on my own, November if Connie and Charlotte are with me.

When I’m pushing my way through the August crowds in the BT Christmas shop in a little over 150 day’s time, I’ll be thinking of those people for whom Christmas only lasts a week or two.

Or less.

I’ll have to get my act together.

Just 42 weeks until the big day.

And 659 days until Christmas 2022.

Deck the halls.

Jingle Bells.


(And yes I admit I’m a little bit weird)

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