No, I’m not dreaming of a white Christmas. We’ve had quite enough snow for this year, thank you. In fact, I wouldn’t mind if I never saw another snowstorm like the one we had last week, beautiful as it was.

But as we did have a snowstorm so close to that holiday that’s somehow connected with it, I thought I’d post some links to posts about one or the other.

I also saw pictures on Facebook of a snow bride, a snowman wearing a skullcap by the Western Wall and a snow toilet and basin.

It’s a good thing Chanuka was early this year and over well before the storm began.

Snow at night

To all those of you who are celebrating Christmas, I hope it turns out exactly as you want it to and you have a lovely time.

I have to admit, it’s 37 years since I attended an office Christmas party. Or any Christmas party for that matter. So when Sally Quilford suggested holding an online party for those of us who don’t work in an office, I thought, why not?

To celebrate, here is a picture of me holding a green doughnut on the sixth night of Chanukah.


If you want to join in the fun, the main party is over on Facebook.

Another blog post made me think today. This one came from Catdownunder:

There is a very, very small Indian community in Adelaide. It is so small that the sight of sari or turban causes people to look twice. It is all so very different from the area of London I lived in for seven years. I still miss the cultural diversity of London. It is quite different from the “multicultural” ethic here.
The sight of an Indian face at the checkout in the supermarket is even more unusual. There was a pleasant young girl in the “fast” lane yesterday. As people went ahead of me I could hear her dutifully saying the obligatory “Merry Christmas”. Some people would say “Merry Christmas” back. Others would nod, too busy to care about something said meaninglessly.
When I reached her and she said it to me I asked, “Do you celebrate Christmas?”
She looked surprised by the question and then admitted, “No, not really.”
So I said, “Well it is really much too late but would it be more appropriate for me to say I hope you had a happy Diwali?”
Her face lit up. “You know about that?” I do.
Now, instead of the professional smile there was a genuine one which reached her eyes as she said, “It was wonderful. Thankyou – and I really do hope you enjoy Christmas.”
If I happen to see her next Diwali I will give her good wishes at the appropriate time. I like it when that happens too.

My first thought was: how thoughtful of Cat. So many people seem to think that everyone must celebrate Christmas. Even if they don’t believe, surely they’d have a tree, give presents, gorge themselves. When I lived in Britain, people seemed to regard me as weird because we didn’t.

Then my thoughts moved on. If I’d been behind that checkout counter, Cat wouldn’t have wished me a happy Chanuka. How could she have known? Unless I’d gone out of my way to look different – maybe by hanging a big Star of David on my neck. But that would be rather in your face, like putting up a sign.

Sometimes I think it would be easier if all differences could be seen. That would avoid confusion and embarrassment. There’s another sign I’d like to put up. It would say:

Please don't go away. I really want to talk to you, but social anxiety makes it hard.


I have another three days of gorging ahead – on doughnuts and latkes.

Happy holidays everyone!