The new green Grinch

I was reading an article in The Globe and Mail the other day about the new green grinch, who is a nasty type of new person stalking the planet, stealing Christmas from everyone else by moaning about consumerism and packaging and waste, etc.

Ahaaaa, Queenie thought, so that's what I am!!

I knew there'd be a label for it somewhere.

My grinchiness is deeper than my greenness however. My greenness is just a mask for a far deeper flaw.

I am just a grinch at heart.

The apple doesn't fall far from the tree.

The Queen Dad texted me this week.

'Don't buy me a Christmas present. I am not buying any this year. Dad'

Okey dokey.

Firstly, I am flying home to be with you for Christmas, oh grinchmeister, so that's your flippin' present.

I'm sure he'd come up with some smart ass reply to that if he actually read my blog.

Secondly, if he had thought his daughter's grinchiness through correctly, he would have known that I have already bought the Queen Dad his Christmas present, so that I could read it before I had to wrap it.

Which is what I always do.

And furthermore, he would have guessed that I got it in Doull's.

Which is even grinchier.

It being the second hand book store par excellence in Halifax.

But actually, I bought it there because I'll never find it again.

It being a hard to find copy of the first novel by one of our favourites. And Doull's being a place that's hard to find books in. Despite it being a bookstore.

But that's okay.

I'll just keep it.

Or give it to someone else.

Who doesn't even like this writer.

This is my point.

I hate buying Christmas presents.

Unless I wake up one morning and realise that I have thought of the perfect present and then I have to go out and hunt it down.

Then I love Christmas shopping.

But that day when you have to head out into the cold with a list of people and NO FRIGGIN' IDEA what to buy any of them.....

I hate that.

So I have been staring at my list for what seems like forever. Trying to think of the right present.

And I had only managed to buy two. Two spectacularly correct presents for the people for whom they were purchased.

I was really proud of both of them.

And one of them doesn't want it now.

I hate Christmas shopping.

One of the columnists in The Coast was talking about how difficult it was for her this year, because she's having 'a year of not buying anything new', so she has to make all her gifts.

It got me thinking.

I was thinking of trying a year of not buying anything new.

I discussed it with Himself last night.

'Dude, I think we should do a year of not buying anything new, what do you think?'

Himself was turning over potatoes from the new bag of PEI roosters, trying to find the best two bakers for supper, so he wasn't really concentrating.

'Well, what do you mean?'

'Well, we don't buy anything new for a year. Apart from food. And liquor. So if we need something we have to find it second-hand. And then we help save the planet.'

'But that's what we do normally, isn't it?'

I considered this. Having had the finances relatively stable for a while, I had noticed that my purchasing of never used items had crept up a little. Particularly with regard to clothes.

And shoes.

When I got my new job I treated myself to two pairs of the cutest damned shoes in the world. As a reward for all my hard work.

Well, we buy new clothes.

I don't.

Yes you do.

Only when you make me, and I have enough now to do me for three years.

I voiced the opinion then that maybe I should stop buying new clothes.

But women have to buy new clothes. So they'll look nice.

Don't you just love this guy!

And he's right. We engage in very little consumption.

So maybe I'm as green grinch as it gets.

But I still have to do the Christmas shopping.

Better go get ready.