It's Christmas!

Happy holidays everyone!

See you all in 2014....

How To Be Appear Completely Inebriated At Your Office Party...

.... while in fact being stone cold sober, and having not touched a drop of alcohol for close on two years!

Start by having a wonderful, generous boss... who arranges fabulous Christmas parties every year. This year was no exception - an elegant dinner in The Orangery at Blenheim Palace, residence of the dukes of Marlborough and notable for being the birthplace and ancestral home of Sir Winston Churchill.

A generous boss means there will be shed loads of bottles of wine on every table... enough wine that even Churchill on a bender would have struggled to get through it all by the end of the evening.

Bessie Braddock: “Sir, you are drunk.” 
Churchill: “Madam, you are ugly. In the morning, I shall be sober.”

A generous boss will also insist that everyone takes a couple of unopened bottles home with them, to share with friends and family over the Christmas festivities. I'm not one to look a gift horse in the mouth.... however, as I discovered a couple of minutes later, there is something somewhat undignified about sweeping through the elegant East Gates of Blenheim Palace at the end of the night... accompanied by the loud and distinct clinking of bottles under one's best winter coat.

Very Posh Doorman at Blenheim Palace [in Very Posh Oxford Accent]: "Taking some supplies with us for the trip home, are we Madam?"

Nat [in Very Unposh, Southern African drawl, only made worse by a lingering sinus infection and a day of nonstop talking]: "I don't even drink!"

Very Posh Doorman at Blenheim Palace [in possibly even Posher Very Posh Oxford Accent]: "Never too young to start learning, Madam!"

The first sign of alcoholic addiction? Denial. Damn you Very Posh Doorman at Blenheim Palace!

So This Is Christmas...

And what have I done?  Not been the greatest blogger of the year, that's for sure!  Hopefully, all that will change in the New Year...

In the meantime, wishing you all the happiest Christmas if you celebrate it, and good times even if you don't!

 

 See you all on the other side...

10 Things I Learnt This Christmas...

1. Christmas is definitely way more magical when you’re a child…. the excitement on my little nieces’ faces when they were tearing open their presents under the tree was quite something to behold.

2. Christmas presents are far more sophisticated these days than when I was a child… way back then, the only “blackberry” we had heard of was a fruit typically found with apples in pies!

3. Garden furniture is very handy for indoor use when you have a load of Christmas visitors to fit around the dinner table.

4. My culinary skills are definitely improving, even if I say so myself… I made a very tasty lamb stew for Christmas Eve supper, a full roast beef dinner (with roast potatoes, glazed carrots, green beans, mini Yorkshire puddings, and port and red onion gravy) for Christmas Day, and then fall-off-the-bone tender roast chickens with a medley of roasted vegetables for Boxing Day. And nothing got burnt… well, apart from those leftover Yorkies that I was trying to warm up under the grill!

5. I also make a mean Christmas cake… perhaps it was all that rum but it certainly went down well, especially with a hefty slice of “Double Gloucestershire” cheese on the side.

6. My Christmas trifle, on the other hand, needs some re-mastering… a tad on the bland side!

7. My usually tee-totaler mom becomes extremely chatty after three glasses of champagne!

8. ‘Love Actually’ is still my all-time favourite “Christmas” movie, but the novelty of ‘Merry Madagascar’ and ‘Shrek The Halls’ is wearing a little thin… not so much for my nieces though!

9. I’ll never tire of cheesy Christmas lights…. which is lucky, since my neighbours hold an annual “We have the cheesiest festive decorations” contest!

10. Someone clearly lacking in common sense and good taste has decided to can Satan’s green balls….I discovered this horror on a trip to the supermarket....

Effectively farts in a can.. or at least in the making!

Happy Christmas!

Wishing everyone a very happy festive season... may your glass always be full, your meat tender, potatoes crisp, brussel sprouts absent, and your loved ones near!

Thank you to all my fabulous readers for your support and friendship this past year….


Nat xx

Blog Posts Of Christmases Past

It's almost Christmas already and I've not posted anything even vaguely festive this year.... apart from sharing that recipe for my now infamous booze-addled Christmas cake back in November. Perhaps I peaked too soon? With fortnightly rum top-ups, the cake is quite possibly a sitting fire hazard by now... perhaps best not to serve it with the flaming brandy pudding!

Then I suppose there was the rather silly behaviour at my office Christmas party this year ... you'd think I would know a lot better, especially since I wrote a whole post about the folly of those overindulging in alcoholic beverages in front of their work colleagues, round about this time last year....10 Reasons Not To Get Drunk At Your Office Christmas Party! How the mighty how fallen?! If there's one thing I hate, it's a hypocrite....

Another thing I detest? Satan's little green balls! They're everywhere at the moment, rather like some recurring, annoying little Christmas jingle. This witty (or perhaps rather shitty!) little ditty first appeared way back in 2009 on this somewhat odious (!) post here.....

Nat's Ode To Brussels Sprouts

How do I hate thee? Let me count the ways...

I loathe to spy thee lying on my plate

All small and green and round

I detest thee, soggy vegetable

I abhor thy sulphur scent

Boiled or roasted, steamed or fried

I hate thee for thou bitter taste

It makes me gag and twist my face

And later I hate thee even more

When two hours on, the air turns poor!

And sprouts are not the only things I hate about Christmas. Indeed, I made a whole list last year... only 5 Things I Hate About Christmas? Huh! I reckon my list grows yearly, as I become more crotchety and bah humbugish in my dotage. Mostly, I'm just fed up with the growing commercialisation of it all... the fact that it all seems to be less about spending time with your loved ones, and more about how much loot you can get! Mind you, there was a time when getting the latest "Baby Doll In A Rocking Cradle" was a very big thing for me...

Yes, back in the "olden days" when Christmas for me fell in the middle of a hot Southern hemisphere summer holiday... sun, sand and surf. A barbeque and the beach.... now I dream about a white Christmas, coz it looks pretty... for a while...but I really just can't be bothered with all that inevitable slush, ice and shovelling snow! Chances of snow are in fact very slim in the UK this Christmas, with temperatures set to soar to a tropical 11C later this week... Global Warming anyone?

Can you now see what I've managed to do here? Cobble together a whole post, pretty much from the posts of Christmases past. Needs must when a serious lack of inspiration and a heavy dosage of laziness sets in...and all that egg nog. Nothing wrong with a bit of recycling - the BBC do this all the time.... rerun the same old programmes at Christmas, year in, year out, with just the odd sprinkling of something new to trick viewers into thinking they're getting value for their licence fees.


So, I may not have wowed you all with my original seasonal prose today, but I'll leave you with a shot of my "fabulously festive" Christmas tree at least....

Happy Christmas everyone!

Boozy 'n Easy Christmas Cake Recipe

Especially for FarmGirl, here is the recipe for my now infamous Christmas cake....

It really is easy, even for a novice like me!

Nigella would approve.....

Time
45 minutes preparation time
3 to 3½ hours cooking time

Ingredients	Imperial	Metric
Butter or margarine at room temperature (1 hour or so out of the fridge)	8 oz	230 g
5 medium eggs	-	-
Mixed Fruit (e.g. currants, raisins, sultanas, peel)	1½ lb	680 g
Glace cherries - roughly chopped	2 oz	60 g
Mixed spice	½ teaspoon	½ teaspoon
Ground almonds	2 oz	60 g
Demerara sugar	8 oz	230 g
Almonds - roughly chopped	2 oz	60 g
Self-raising flour	12 oz	340 g
Brandy or rum	4 fl oz	110 ml
Milk - if needed to adjust consistency of mixture	2 fl oz	55 ml

Note! You will need more brandy to add to the cake as it matures. 

Allow for another 4 fl oz / 110 ml.

Cooking utensils

1 cake tin - 20 to 25 cm (8 to 10 inch) diameter
A large mixing bowl

Greaseproof paper

Oven temperature
170°C, 325°F, Gas Mark 3 (reduce temperature for fan-assisted oven)


Method
Ideally, first soak the dried fruit in the brandy/rum overnight....

Grease the inside of the cake tin with butter, margarine or oil. Cover the inside of the cake tin with greaseproof paper....

Cream the sugar and butter, then slowly add the eggs.....

Turn the oven on now so that it is pre-heated to the right temperature.

Add the flour, ground almonds and mixed spice and gently mix them in. The object here is to mix all the ingredients well but not to 'knock' the air out of the mixture. Do this by using a spatula and gently stir in a figure of 8. It will take about 30 seconds to mix up all the ingredients....

Add the soaked mixed fruit, glace cherries and chopped almonds. 

Gently mix the ingredients together using a spatula as described previously. The consistency of the mix should be such that the mixture will drop off a spoon with some reluctance. If the mixture is too thick, add some of the milk and mix gently again.

Gently spoon the mixture into the cake tin lined with greaseproof paper. Level out the mixture using the spatula.

Make a small well in the centre of the mixture. This will prevent the cake from rising too excessively in the centre when it is baking.

My mom's tip: Stand the cake tin on a layer of salt on a baking tray to prevent burning!

Bake for 3 to 3½ hours (pre-heated oven 170°C, 325°F, Gas Mark 3), 20 minutes less for fan assisted ovens. Turn the cake round in the oven once or twice during baking to ensure that it evenly cooks. When the cake is cooked, the top will probably be slightly cracked. Check if the Christmas Cake is cooked properly by inserting a skewer or thin knife into the cake. If it's reasonably clean when you take it out, the cake is cooked. If there are bits stuck to the skewer / knife it needs cooking a bit more. Note! Ovens differ in how fast they cook so check your cake after 2½ hours and then every 20 minutes to see if it is cooked. Let the cake cool for a couple of hours then prepare it for storage. Cover with greaseproof paper then either wrap it in foil or store it in an airtight container. Ideally, the cake should be matured for a month or more before icing it. If storing the cake for more than two weeks, add a small amount of brandy to the cake every two weeks. The best way to add brandy is to turn the cake upside down, prick it with a fork in several places then sprinkle a couple of tablespoons of brandy over the base of the cake. Rewrap the cake as before, base downwards. Recipe was given to me by my good friend who is an expert cook....  Original can be found here

Yo-Ho-Ho... And A Bottle Of Rum

I think I've been watching way too many cookery programmes lately... first I was obsessed with Master Chef, then The Great British Bake-Off, and now I'm hooked on the Australian version of Master Chef. 

Or perhaps my still-almost-newly-fitted kitchen that comes complete with fully functioning split level ovens... as opposed to my old oven that had a broken door and three temperature settings - scorch, blacken and incinerate... has lulled me into a delusional state of thinking that I can actually cook, provided the recipe is not too taxing.

Either way, I have suddenly become rather interested in cooking and even more interested in baking... as you may have noticed from the content of my recent posts.

Do not be surprised to see strict-diet-weight-loss related posts shortly....

Just what every woman needs in the kitchen... a man who can cook!

So.... I decided last weekend I'd have a go at making our Christmas cake.

"What? In October?!!" I hear you cry....

Apparently, this is the perfect time to make that festive fare, leaving two months to "feed" the cake with the acoholic beverage of your choice....

And if there's one thing we have in abundance in this house, it's hard liquor.... not because we're alcoholics or anything like that (yeah!yeah! denial is the first sign!) but because we are always getting booze as gifts (our friends obviously do think we're partial to the odd tipple!). We're also rather fond of buying bottles of obscure liqueurs as "souvenirs" when we travel... bottles that get put in a cupboard and forgotten about long before the holiday laundry pile is depleted.

We could open a cocktail bar tomorrow, and have some very merry customers for a very long time.

The Christmas cake recipe I'd chosen suggests rum or brandy... and I knew I had a bottle of rum lurking in the back of the drinks cabinet, a bottle acquired in the Dominican Republic back in 2005. I think it was actually a freebie from the hotel room that we packed in our hand luggage at the last minute... you know, back in the olden days when it was still legal to fly with more than a fairy's thimble of liquids about your person?

Why is the rum always gone?

Whatever... the point is, we had a bottle of rum going spare and I was delighted to finally find a use for it, and free up some space in that groaning drinks cabinet. Approximately 5 hours later, with the Christmas cake successfully made (yes it does take a rather long time to bake!) I was feeling rather pleased with myself and decided to post something about it on the social network.... and it's not often that I do post anything because frankly, my life is just not that interesting (and yet I somehow manage to keep a blog running with the drivel of my daily life!) and more importantly, I don't feel the need to inform the wider world that I'm waiting for a bus... or describe in detail how my baby has been projectile vomiting over everyone. Mainly because I don't often take the bus... and I don't have babies.

Anyway, perhaps it was the shock of me actually posting something for a change that caused such a huge response... or maybe an otherwise slow day on FacePlantBook, but I sparked a massive debate about the fate of that bottle of rum. General consensus... there are better things to do with a bottle of rum than "waste it pouring it over a cake"!

Do you agree?

The Christmas Cake... and the bottle of rum that caused so much consternation

Anyone interested in the recipe for Christmas Cake? I'd be happy to post it....

So This Is Christmas...

Some festive scenes... night shots are always a challenge!

I'm now officially on holiday until the 4th of January, and about to join the millions of others across the UK today travelling to family for Christmas. After almost a week of travel chaos....airport closures, trains not running and roads turned to skating rinks....the weather has thankfully eased a bit and we'll be able to get going.

I hope you and your families all have a very happy Christmas, and safe travelling if you're going anywhere this festive season!



Seasons Greetings!

Five Things I Hate About Christmas

Warning! Bah humbug theme throughout this post, which may not be suitable reading for those who absolutely love Christmas and everything about it...



1. Christmas shopping

It’s not the gift buying per se that I object to (my name’s not Ebenezer Scrooge, although I did once live in Ebenezer Road) but it’s the marauding masses with their screaming, sulking brats little darlings in tow that can make shopping such an awful experience. Long queues at the checkout, unhelpful shop staff and items that I want always out of stock on the shop floor, can add up to a very bad day out. Therefore, in the interests of personal sanity, this year I’ve done my entire Christmas shop online...I think I may be developing a bit of an obsession for internet shopping in fact... but I just love it! Clickety click....ding dong.... “Just sign here”....what a pleasure! Only problem is, half the jolly country has decided that this is the way forward, and, coupled with the snow disruption, there’s apparently a back log of over 4 million parcels to deliver. I’m now getting just a tad worried that not everything is going to arrive in time...



2. Brussels sprouts

I’ve already ranted on about my hatred of Satan’s green balls on here ... and you’re right, no one is actually forcing me to buy them, let alone eat them. They do, however, have a nasty habit of cropping up, completely uninvited, on my plate at Christmas parties. Apparently, they’re festive fare....fair, my foot! Just the sight of them, let alone their stench, is enough to make me retch!

 

3. Christmas pudding

Again, consumption of this stodgy ball of fruity, alcoholic fat is (thankfully!) not compulsory, and passing on the dessert course is one way to cut the calorific load of the Christmas day feast. I just don’t understand why anyone would pay vast sums of money for one such pudding, but that’s exactly what has been going on here in the UK this year. Celebrity chef Heston Blumenthal (famous for serving up such culinary delights as snail porridge, and bacon and egg ice-cream at his Three Michelin-starred restaurant, ‘The Fat Duck’) designed The Hidden Orange pudding, which has a whole candied Valencia orange at its centre, and is reputedly The Must-Have Christmas Pudding of The Century. The puds went on sale in Waitrose for £13.99 and were almost all sold out in a week, then started appearing on eBay, selling to the highest bidders for up to £129! The proof of that pudding will be in the eating, me thinks, but just don’t choke on that candied peel or it won’t be such a Merry Citrus....

4. Annoying fragrance ads

Until we get TV that emits a scent (possibly a good idea for cookery shows, not such a great one for workout programmes, or documentaries on sewage works), ad agencies are always going to struggle to sell perfume, the product, opting to rather promote the ‘lifestyle’ that apparently comes with it. And judging from the ads on TV at the moment, spraying yourself with perfume will immediately transform you into a sullen-looking, hollow-cheeked girl who dances bizarrely around rooms, or else drapes herself uncomfortably over a sofa, and awaits the entrance of some equally sullen-looking, rather effeminate bloke. Why do all perfume ads have to end with some random French words spoken in a breathy, exaggerated whisper?



5. Writing Christmas Cards

Spending as much time as I do on a keyboard, I’m rapidly losing the power to write anything by hand...how on earth did I ever get through university lectures taking notes, and write 4-hour exams? These days, just signing a couple of Christmas cards is enough to send my hand into arthritic spasms... forget putting little personal messages in each card, the recipients are lucky to get a spidery, scrawled “Love Nat”... maybe just an ‘N’ by the time I get to the end of the pile of dozens of cards I somehow feel obliged to send out each year. Then there’s the inevitable hour-long queue in the post office to contend with, followed by the heart palpitations that accompany the realisation of just how much it’s going to cost to send those cardboard creations across the globe...next year I’m doing e-cards!

 

So, is there anything you hate about Christmas....or do you just love, love, love it all?

Dear Santa

Yeah, it’s me...that little girl who cried her eyes out on Christmas morning 1979 when the “Baby Doll In A Rocking Cradle” turned out to be just a crappy cradle. Somebody (no names mentioned) didn’t bother to check the box for its full contents. Do you have any idea what type of elaborate yarn my parents had to spin by me to explain the absence of Baby? Apparently Baby was not well and had to stay in the Babies’ Hospital until after Christmas....conveniently around about the time the shops reopened. When Baby did finally come home, she’d grown blonde hair. I’d specifically requested a brunette Baby, coz, even at the age of 5, I was sick of all the blondes having all the fun.

That was when I first started wondering about you, Santa....you were supposed to be perfect and yet how could you make such a fundamental error? Attention to detail and all that, you know! Most unprofessional! And another thing that bugged me about you as a child was if there’s only one of you and you lived in the North Pole...who were all those Santa-lookalikes, one in every department store? Remember, this was long before they cloned Dolly. More awkward questions for my parents...apparently those other Santas were just your helpers, after all the North Pole is a long way from tropical Africa. They couldn’t quite explain why you brought the rich kids so many more cool toys though...

Anyway, not to dwell on the past, bygones are bye byegones and all that....I’m writing to you this year, Santa, with just one request. It’s quite a Biggie, but it’s not just for me. Here goes...

Could you please get rid of cancer....like eradicate it! It’s really messed up the past year and nearly took my dad away from me twice. Luckily he’s a great fighter and he’s with us for Christmas, coz it was a bit touch and go earlier this year. But now cancer’s picking fights with a lot of my friends’ families too. I know you don’t tolerate bullies and I’d say there’s no bigger bully than the Big C.

And if you possibly have a bit of space in that great sleigh of yours, any chance you could hustle up a pair of witty, intelligent, good-looking guys to fall in love with a couple of equally fabulous but strangely single ladies that I know?

Thanks, Santa!

Have a very merry Christmas
Nat
.....




Happy Christmas to all those who celebrate it and Happy Days Off to those who don't. Hope you get to do many fantastic things...

I'll be back posting more random drivel in 2010, provided I don't loose my fingers in a freak frostbite accident in Norway or get eaten by an Abominable Snowman.

Always look on the bright side of life....

Odious

A few Christmases back, thanks to an online grocery shopping malfunction, I ended up with 3 kilograms of Brussels sprouts. Why in the name of all things sane and logical I was ordering even one single Brussels sprout eludes my memory. I can only think I got carried away by all the subliminal advertising messages of the season...

MUST GET BRUSSELS SPROUTS....CHRISTMAS IS NOT CHRISTMAS WITHOUT SATAN’S GREEN BALLS.

No one in my family eats them...so come Boxing Day, I was faced with a wheelbarrow load of sprouts...some cooked, some not, some half chewed and spat out. Tempting as it was to dump the whole ugly lot, my conscience pricked...people are starving, dontchaknow? And you’re throwing food out! As I was not in possession of the postal codes of the ravenous masses and therefore could not ship the nutritious little bundles of joy to the Blessed Hungry, I was going to have to come up with a plan....

[Tada, drum roll, fanfare, etc.]

Disguise them as something edible! I cooked up cauldrons of beef stew and vegetable soup, popping the offending articles into the pots when I hoped my taste buds weren’t looking. Good in theory, piss poor in practice....nothing on this earth can blanket out the rank nastiness that is a Brussels sprout.

The end result: foul tasting stew and even fouler soup, both completely inedible. So, instead of consigning a few dodgy veggies to the compost heap, I now had to dispose of several kilograms of stew and a vat of soup....and invest in some heavy duty air fresheners to take care of the pungent odours that filled the house.

Nat's Ode To Brussels Sprouts

How do I hate thee? Let me count the ways

I loathe to spy thee lying on my plate

All small and green and round

I detest thee, soggy vegetable

I abhor thy sulphur scent

Boiled or roasted, steamed or fried

I hate thee for thou bitter taste

It makes me gag and twist my face

And later I hate thou even more

When two hours on, the air turns poor.

OK, poetry is not my strong point. But why do I hate Brussels sprouts so much? According to reliable sources, a gene that modern humans share with Neanderthals makes some people super-tasters of a bitter chemical called phenylthiocarbamide (PTC). Substances similar to PTC confer the tart taste to Brussels sprouts, broccoli and cabbage, and, as they are also present in some poisonous plants, having distaste for them makes evolutionary sense. For those of you that love the little devils, Go Ape!

Christmases Past

The very first thing that I learnt when I came to live in the UK was: Never use the word "pants" when refering to your trousers, as this can lead to embarrassing situations. For example, on a windy day, saying "I'm glad I wore pants!" (as opposed to a skirt) implies that you would typically Go Commando. On the other hand, if something is described as being pants, it means it's going horribly wrong, as in "This weather is pants!".....which brings me nicely onto the second thing I learnt.

British people have a love/hate relationship with the weather in general, and in particular with snow. It doesn’t actually snow very often (at least not down in the south), so there is great excitement when the white stuff does make a rare appearance. That excitement is pretty quickly replaced with collective annoyance as the country rapidly grinds to a halt....airports close, the transport system packs up shop and Davina McCall is forced to spend the night in her car, her fingers frozen to her iPhone as she bravely “tweets” through adversity to reassure loving fans she is still alive.

Nonetheless, snow at Christmas time is highly desired... but most years, the bookies profit while the nation’s hopes of a Dickensian scene are dashed. This year, expectations are greater than usual ...the snow that fell three days ago is still lying on the ground with more predicted to be on the way. Will this be the year we finally get to experience a "white Christmas"...or will all our dreams turn to slush?

After growing up in the southern hemisphere, where Christmas lands slap bang in the middle of summer, it took me a couple of years to get used to this reversal of seasons. Christmas days of my childhood were likely spent gathered around the pool, and lunch was typically cold ham or chicken and salads, or a barbeque/braai, depending on your cultural leanings. My family often spent Christmas on holiday in South Africa, on the southern KwaZulu-Natal coast. For landlocked Zimbos, going “Down South” was lekker, man... a holiday of sun, surf and sand and the opportunity for a shopping spree. In the early 1980s, everything was scarce in Zimboland...toothpaste, light bulbs, toilet paper (I shit you not!). People horded basic goods and everyone knew someone who had just returned from South Africa and was selling tins of sardines or Oil of Ulay at inflated prices.

My parents had a Citroen DS,  like this one....

Equipped with a massive boot, spacious back seat and hydropneumatic self-leveling suspension, the DS was perfect for carting goodies back over the border. Laden down with all our Christmas presents and a year’s supply of tinned fish, dried fruit and toiletries, it’s a wonder the weight of the car didn’t break Alfred Beit Bridge, landing us all in the croc-infested waters of the Limpopo.

One of the most traumatic events of my early life occurred during one such shopping spree, at a large department store in Durban. My parents went off to buy our Christmas presents, leaving me in the care of my older brother....only he wandered away in search of Scalextric cars and I was suddenly all alone.

Terrified, I started running up and down the shop aisles desperately looking for my Mummy....and ran straight into the arms of a burly shop assistant. He took me, screaming and struggling, to the store’s office, where the store manager tried to find out my name so that he could send out a message to my parents over the PA system. I was offered bags of sweets, but I was having none of it.....didn’t my mom always say I was not to talk to strangers? Well this candy-touting dude looked pretty strange to me and I took my mom’s instructions to heart (at the age of 6, I punched the doctor who was trying to examine me as my mom also said I was never to let anyone touch me).

Eventually, the store manager made an announcement that a little girl with long dark hair, wearing pink shorts and a purple top, and refusing to talk is looking for her mom and dad. Luckily, my parents immediately realised that little girl was me and were over to fetch me in seconds. As for my errant brother, he was unperturbed by my absence and then highly disappointed that I’d turned down the offer of unlimited sweets.

Aren’t brothers just the best?

Christmas Karaoke

It's that time of the year again when Christmas songs from decades past fill the airwaves....the gravelly tones of '70s Glam Rockers Slade, Pretty Boy Pop in the shape of Wham (when George Michael had a perm and was still pretending to be straight), a medley of squeaky clean tunes from Sir Cliff, and Band Aid in all its worthy forms are dusted off and given their annual airing.

Bad hair and clothes were big by Christmas 1973, and this song ruled. I was in utero at the time and would grace the world with my presence in just four short weeks' time....



In recent years, there's been no contest for the UK's Christmas Number One spot....it's been a given that the single of the winner of X Factor (its release conveniently timed to simultaneously line the shop shelves and Simon Cowell's pockets the week before Christmas) will go straight to the top.

But this year, X Factorite Joe McElderry's cover of 'The Climb' (Miley Cyrus) is facing some unprecedented competition from Rage Against The Machine's 'Killing In The Name', thanks to an anti-X Factor Facebook campaign that already boasts over 40,000 supporters.

So which would you choose? This one......



Or this....?



Personally, neither! My favourite Christmas song is this one from The Darkness - I love the way these guys just take the piss....

10 Things I Learnt At My Office Christmas Party

Inspired by Being Brazen, who regularly posts lists about her weekend, here’s one from me....

1. Not even Tyra Banks could "work" a paper Christmas hat.

2. A roomful of adults are easily entertained by party poppers and screeching rocket balloons whizzing overhead.

3. White and dark chocolate delice with raspberry and vanilla compote is a delicious dessert.

4. An office "Christmas do" is not a party without a disco cheesier than a toasted emmental and brie sandwich.

5. Two glasses of wine are enough to get me onto the dance floor of such a disco.

6. These days, two glasses of wine are also enough to give me a hangover from hell the next day.

7. Kings of Leon, 50 Cent, Chesney Hawkes and Marilyn Manson make for an eclectic mix of sounds....and some bizarre dance routines.

8. My Heavy-Metal-loving husband knows all the moves to The Macarena...and (with the right amount of alcohol in him) will happily demonstrate them on the dance floor.

9. There is no greater feeling than dancing in stockinged feet after 4 hours on 4 inch stiletto heels.

10. Cameras should be banned at functions involving alcohol, dancing and  workmates who are also your friends on FaceBook.