Silly season has arrived in genuine SA style – hot as all heck! In the hopes of some youthful pearls of wisdom on the silliness of the season, I reveal my column topic to the household teen. Between giant bites of chicken roti and gulps of orange squash he asks what the silly season is. (Err… What exactly do they teach in schools these days?) Without listening for the answer, his worthy advice is to lay off the drugs. “Silly Season,” I interrupt, “is the period leading up to Christmas when folks wind down for the year and start partying and buying…”
“Ok, he quips through a last mouthful of roti, “Don’t lay off the drugs then…”
I see he’s not going to be much help.
So from my own meagre arsenal of Silly Season tips then… social media is probably best avoided at this time of year. An old chestnut, you may think, but anyone who’s anyone is sure to have begun posting pictures of their Yuletide handiwork, and in 35°C weather, who really feels like schlepping a massive tree from the garage, untangling a plethora of hastily-stored lights, or being poked in the eye by an errant branch?
Personally, I sing the praises of minimalism: a branch, a vase, hand-beaded stars, et voila, you’ve helped a bloke feed his family, avoided contributing to the world’s growing landfills and painlessly erected a “tree” in under 5 minutes. Come New Year, just chuck the branch on the braai and you never have to worry about storage.
As for buying gifts; our droll teen might once have been appeased with a sackful of cheap bow-and-arrows and the like, but these days, the celebration of Christ’s birth has less of the makings of a fairy tale and is more like being on the set of Jerry Maguire… “Show me the money!” Not a keen shopper, this suits me just fine, but if you still have littlies, a top shopping tip is to avoid all pressies with foreign instructions which may require assembly.
Actually, my top tip is to scrap stressful shopping altogether. Rather scrape together the dough to go somewhere meaningful. Give yourselves a break and spend a day or two communing as a family.
For the first time ever in 2017, I did not cook and clean like a woman possessed, rearrange furniture and decor, or swear under my breath at the slackers avoiding enlistment to help perform said tasks. Instead, we escaped reality.
The boys chortled like Santa in his sleigh as they manoeuvred a golf cart at alarming speed from one hole to the next, hacking their way cluelessly around the golf course, whilst I contemplated my blessings alongside a tranquil river.
Later, we savoured a hotel-cooked lunch and one another’s presence, pulling crackers that someone else had bought and making memories to soften the sting of a rough year.
Here’s hoping you too will be able to unlearn the art of being a control freak this silly season and instead make special memories you’ll want to unwrap in the future.
Written by Janine Magree.