Crinkle wrinkly

OK, so I don't particularly like Christmas. Still, it's better than Hallowe'en, that nasty evening that has turned into a month of stupid bangs. Christmas is a month of buying rubbish and eating the sort of food that you wouldn't go near the rest of the year. It will require 3 months-worth of penitential starvation to remove the half-stone of extra flab gained - if you can be bothered, in the rush of returning to work/study/real life in January.
Presents are a nightmare, so much so that I've nearly given up. Sometimes I have some things I've bought specifically for certain people, sometimes I have a few gifts from my holidays, which didn't get given/sent at the time, which come in handy. My kids just want the money and lots of it, so that sorts that out, because by the time they have claimed their whack, I'm broke.
Cards I do enjoy sending, except they have to be bought so early in the year, if I want to be sure I can get the ones I want. Yes, I'm fussy that way, always Giles cards for RNLI and other Charity cards to make up the numbers of smaller cards I need. If only we could hold it at cards and one day of gluttony, it could be fun. The religious activities mean nothing to me. If the urge to be charitable in other ways comes over me, I feel quite free to exercise it at any point in the year. I think all the winter months might be most appropriate for the homeless, if they can survive.
Whatta Scrooge I am, yes I admit it.