Inspired by Ellie over here, as I don't think she quite believed me when I suggested she provides such, I thought I'd [ poach / recycle / adapt / embellish - delete as applicable ] my comments from her latest post and see what if anything it amounted to. I've not put anything up since getting back to the UK for the seasonal merriments and I'm beginning to suspect that small band watching maybe feeling just a tad short-changed of late. As November and December paid testament, I'm not exactly short of words as a rule, but I must confess a general listlessness towards committing thoughts to my database.

Christmas has come, Christmas has gone. The usual events have played out much in the manner that could have been predicted. Too much money spent, too much food eaten, but remarkably well behaved with the demon drink (though I can account for the demolition of 6 bottles of pretty decent champers, though not all by myself I hasten to add). Everything I thought I wanted has duly arrived and more, though how the staggering pile of books that went on my Amazon list are going to make it back to KSA is anyone's guess.

In the interests of remaining on a sound financial footing, I have not dropped into Sounds Great and slapped the Egg Card onto this little beauty though I'm sorely tempted all the same.

Which neatly brings me onto where I started off over at Ellie's place and yet another puritanical demonstration of good behaviour in the face of the temptations of Beelzebub and all his little wizards - should you have a liking for such insanities...

AM and I were exceptionally well behaved last night. The pair of us pretty much chilled in front of our respective laptop and PC for the evening, she looking at houses, me buggering about with the intricacies of jQuery (I live the wild life me...). Our one bottle of wine with our evening meal wasn't going down well at all on my part, its compatibility with my assorted mix of tablets seemingly at an all time low. We watched a few fireworks out of our 2nd storey bedroom looking across Thornton-Cleveleys, Bispham and Blackpool towards The Tower. For the most part they were a rather feeble affair compared with what Sky News offered us from Edinburgh, Sydney, Madrid and other locations

was it me, or should London have come up with something more spectacular; I don't know to be truthful, it could have just been poor coverage on Sky's part, but it didn't look to be as much as a capital city should offer, recession or not - maybe they're saving them for 2012...

There did look to be some sort of show on near where the North Pier should be, but we are too far away to see the very best of it. Bed eventually came after 01:00, but that would have been long before many.

I've never quite been able to get into the spirit of the New Year somehow, it feels to me more of a wake for something passing than it does a celebration of a new birth. I don't know exactly where that came from in my life, but it's so ingrained, I'm not sure I could change it now. The best I can point to is that I'm rarely in the same place at this time of year as I am for the rest of it - it never quite feels like the right place for it. Perhaps it will work itself out when I've settled myself in one location, or alternatively when I've worked out what's so fascinating about getting excessively drunk for no discernible reason...

Or at least that's what I'm told...

It's now December and I hear tell that some have already completed their Christmas shopping and worse, some have all their presents wrapped. I am not of that ilk I'm afraid, but the time of year has at least dawned on me and I'm beginning to think I ought to take a modicum of interest in meeting expectations. Given where AM and I live for the larger part of our lives, it's perhaps not surprising that Christmas (there, I've said it now) doesn't have quite the same effect on my psyche as it would back in the UK, where the shops, towns and pubs are decorated to the hilt, in an effort to get people to crack their rather strained wallets and purses out - I'm afraid that a supermarket stacked to the rafters with dates doesn't quite cut it in the same way.

The real trick to Christmas is knowing how to satisfy friends and family with a gift, preferably in the simplest manner and shortest time possible - managed that once when a trip up to the Lakes found a fleece for (almost) everyone. You don't want to under do it - a bulk pack of gift vouchers for example - but then again, you find that as people get older, they do become rather more tricky to buy for. Oft times, getting them what they 'really' want would require a Getty style bankroll with a Hefner sized sack to carry it all back in. So what to do then?

The standard approach is to ask "What would you like for Christmas this year?". They inevitably answer much like myself along the lines of "I don't know" - chances are that they don't actually care that much either. In many eyes, I suspect Christmas is something of a chore to be tolerated at best. It gets a little more entertaining where there are small children involved, but I couldn't eat a whole one myself you understand. Where you do get a suggestion, it's likely going to be for that old favourite, a pair of slippers*.

"But you had slippers last year..."

"I know, but they're worn out from being used round the garage"

Now I could be wrong, but that sounds awfully like I'm doing your annual running repairs. It doesn't sound very festive, much less exciting - please tell me that slippers are not exciting - and lastly it's hardly a surprise either.

The other thing you don't want to do is disappoint anyone. They know where I work, they know I'm doing reasonably well salary-wise and more so when so many others are struggling during the recession. I'd not want to appear to be a cheapskate, nor would I want to look too flash or showy - just wouldn't do.

So back to the question of what to buy for an assorted band of children between 2 and 9, and a set of adults from 29 to 97? I'd love to have another 'fleece' type spark of inspiration right about now, but it's not looking likely. Looks like I could be going back to an old standby and popping an orange and a sixpence into a stocking for everyone. I can't get them all an iPod Shuffle - can you see my Grandmother tackling a PC and iTunes to fill it up, much less getting out in her jogging gear to put it to its true purpose? No, me neither...

If anyone has any suggestions, now would be a good time to make yourself known, because I'm clueless, I really am...

* My Dad always has M&S slippers

Sitting at breakfast this morning, looking over the Bahrain museum and the road junction immediately in front of it, it finally felt that relaxation had come to us. The massage yesterday afternoon and a good night's sleep were no doubt contributory factors in the equation. Not that this mattered much, we had to check out and head back in this direction - yes, we're back in Riyadh, a place full of unhappy people according to last night's taxi driver. He had worked there for 5 years a while back doing something finance related. Odd then that he preferred his life back in Bahrain as a taxi driver rather than have the money Riyadh probably gave him. I could empathise with him.

At the check out desk were a pile of leaflets advertising Christmas at the Diplomat. Christmas lunch, the reindeer choir singing your favourite carols and The Boxtones on live - sounds ideal. The older I get, the less inclined I'm becoming to want to be back in the UK. If it weren't for the expectation heaped on you, probably unknowingly, by family, I'm fairly certain both AM and I would much rather head off somewhere warm to relax. The UK is too cold, too wet, too dark and too damned depressing to want to spend time there during the winter. Not only that, but it seems a never ending round of driving from place to place - time dutifully killed behind the wheel of a car. Not that our own house would be much better. Since buying it seven years back, we've barely spent any time in it. As tidy as it is, it's never been given the opportunity to become a home for either of us.

More than once this weekend, we've toyed with the notion of staying just that extra day, but that's a slippery slope that could lead to a very expensive hotel bill to be repented at pleasure. So we'll content ourselves with a couple of nights and wait until the next time. Talking to the receptionist as we departed, it would seem that we will be expected...