New York is a pretty spectacular place to be in the coming weeks to Christmas. The craft fairs have begun to sprinkle the city, a rather large queue has started to form outside of the legendary FAO Swartz, trees are ordained with bright red bows and fairy lights litter almost every street. It is difficult not to be infected by the feeling of goodwill when you are surrounded by holly and eggnog.
A friend of mine invited me to South Carolina for Thanksgiving, the biggest family holiday in the United States. The welcome I received there was overwhelming.
Ironically, on my last evening I became violently ill from a bad pint of Guinness. Never before had I felt so homesick, imagining myself wrapped up in a duvet in Greystones, with a mug full of flattened 7-UP and a plate of plain toast - the meal of queens. Alas, I had to gather my innards and fly back to New York, while my friend patted me on the back.
Since returning to New York all I’ve been yearning for is to be back in the homeland for Christmas. I cannot wait for two weeks where sweet potatoes are not yams, half past the hour makes total logical sense and the word craic means fun and not cocaine.
So bring on Reeling in the Years, Pringles mixed with Roses, bad cracker jokes, “two battery packs for ten euro”, the Brown Thomas window, queues for Bewley’s hot chocolate, the Loreto Christmas carolers, the lights on Grafton Street and even better, the secret laneway of Johnston’s Court, Penney’s pajamas, Dustin the Turkey, the National Craft Fair, the Panto, Gone With the Wind on RTE 1 and Ben Hur on RTE 2, the Irish Times crossword…
Homemade cranberry sauce, paté, relish, stuffing, sweet potatoes, roast potatoes, roast carrots, Brussels sprouts, gravy and turkey and ham for the carnivores, smoked salmon, mince pies, Tayto’s and Barry’s Tea, Stephen’s Day sambos, hot whiskey, the Big Fat Quiz Show of the Year, the Pogues, Cadbury’s selection boxes, the Snowman, waiting for your friends to finish up with Mass so you can leg it down for the Christmas swim, watching your mum baste a turkey , getting slagged for being vegetarian, the News anchor telling children that Santa is ready to go, Christmas pints with your friends and a food coma with your family...
Bring on seeing Mum and Dad, sisters and brothers, aunts, uncles, nephews and nieces, grandparents, friends and lovers, the people you have not seen in over two years and the people you Skype with every second week, and even the people you might not want to see - sure lash them in there for the craic anyway, it’s a story to tell everyone else later.
Bring on coming home to Ireland for Christmas.
