I love seasonal food and all it signals.
Asparagus means summer is round the corner, strawberries mean Christmas is round the corner, oyster season means I'll be going over to the family-of-four-boys-six-and-under and making a pig of myself with oysters, whitebait season means I'm going to find me someone to cook me some whitebait.
I always think of seasonal food as a treat. I don't think I would feel the same about these foods if I could wrap my laughing gear around them twelve months a year.
Same with dining out. With work I tend to travel a reasonable amount which means eating out. I always find it's fun to begin with, but even after two days of buying breakfast, lunch and dinner from a menu the treat of eating out starts to become a drag. Not another freaking menu. Too many treats.
Now, I would like to apply this theory to Christmas. Don't get me wrong, I love Christmas.
But in December.
If you start to torture me with Christmas in October, I will really resent Christmas by the time it eventually rocks around. And you will most probably find 'fucking' not terribly far from 'Christmas' in sentences that come out of my mouth.
And when I saw that full blown Christmas tree yesterday, I was not filled with the spirit of Christmas, no, I wanted to slam my head in the door.
Retailers, if you're listening, PLEASE DON'T RUIN CHRISTMAS FOR THE REST OF US BY GIVING US BLANKET COVERAGE FROM OCTOBER.
Please don't make us hate Christmas.
Cause I'd like to stay fond of it, if that's okay.