That time of year again

It’s hard to buy normal things for the household at this time. There are queues and queues of people and lines and lines of traffic. Time and parking spaces are scarce and everyone seems frustrated to some degree. 

I’m now at a point where I don’t buy it. 

The whole seasonal thing. I’ve always been one to ask why we do things and often that takes me in the opposite direction so I’m not clear why we do what we do at this time of year. 

If people choose to celebrate because of their beliefs I totally respect that.  But I’m not sure that what I witness on the high street has anything to do with faith of belief. 

Then all I see is waste. Wasted food, wasted time, discarded wrapping paper, emotional frustration wasted on effort to do our best which often leads to failure. Wasted money.  

And.

Stuff. 

Stuff we don’t want, stuff we don’t need, excess and wasteful ness most if which makes me feel sad and disappointed. Yet people think I’m a character from Dickens and that I’m being miserable for not conforming. 

I also find difficult the tendency that I encounter where people don’t respect what I believe about this time of year. It’s not miserable of me to dislike it. I’m an individual and I don’t enjoy the processes that other people do. 

I try to do more for charity. Christmas cards from good causes. Spend time making a shoe box for a child that will benefit in another land. Enjoy the fresh air, friendship, family and open spaces. 

I make things and recycle things. I donate. 

Keep it simple and only do things that are relevant to me. Keeping the waste down.  

I took this photo of Christmas rubbish a year ago.