So here we are a month to go to Christmas.

 A month to go before Christmas.

So here we are a month to go before Christmas and, then shortly before the Jewish festival of Chanukah. The old certainties should always be acknowledged. You've got to remember the traditions, the annual festivities, the family gatherings, the booze, the turkey and trimmings, the tinsel bedecked tree, the presents nestling comfortably next to the tree, the doting parents and grandparents, the warm intimacy, the camaraderie, the smiles and the ensuing chaos that follows when the kids discover that their toys are missing the batteries. 

But there's exactly a month to go to Christmas and this year's festivities will quite clearly not be the same. Quite dramatically and cataclysmically, this Christmas has been given the thumbs up and the green light but with disturbing differences and uncharacteristic changes to the schedule. We now know that Covid 19 has now rendered the whole period a seemingly pointless exercise. But we're determined to celebrate the festive holiday in much the way we always have and none of us will be daunted by the restrictions. 

For a while some of us were convinced that Christmas would have to be cancelled completely which would have been regarded as unthinkable at the beginning of this year. But slowly but surely 2020 unravelled like some knotted and twisted ball of cotton wool. The trouble is though that this ball of cotton wool is absolutely filthy and tattered, ready for the bin. By the middle of summer we were resigned to our fate, happy to be with immediate family but sadly prevented from mixing with grandparents, parents, uncles, aunties, cousins, brothers and sisters in law. 

Christmas must though be allowed to take place because we have to observe the sacred customs and rituals that have sustained us for as long as any of us can remember. How can we not cut up the turkey, plunge into a tureen of brussel sprouts, pour brown gravy over this mouth-watering concoction and then plant a paper hat on our head, admiring Her Majesty the Queen at three o'clock in the afternoon on the TV. These are the reliable conventions of modern-day life and besides, we've always done it this way. 

How on earth could Christmas Day and Boxing Day ever be overlooked or simply forgotten when the whole world does the same thing year after year. This is the one period when we are re-acquainted with family who may live at the other end of the country. It is the one time of the year when, just for a couple of days we can just loosen up, lighten up, pulling crackers, laughing whole-heartedly at the outrageous silliness of it all and then filling up with a deeply satisfying malt whisky or port followed by cheese and pineapple on sticks and a whole host of savoury crisps. 

Of course those who may be of a devoutly Christian persuasion, a visit to the local church for Mass on Christmas Eve is a vital necessity. Then you'll probably wander down to your chapel of worship, giggle at the vicar's beard and then proceed to pray on Christmas Day. That's what you've always done and nothing is going to stop you now. The pews will resound clearly to the sacrosanct hymns while Ding, Dong Merrily on High is recited with full vigour from the diaphragm. 

Then again on reflection this can't be the customary Christmas because the UK government will be watching us like a hawk. We can invite a specific number of our family around for the yearly knees up but they have to keep a respectful distance from us in case the virus is still at large on some part of our clothing. It all sounds bonkers to the outside observer but we've just got to get on with it. 

The arrangement is that for only a couple of days after Christmas can we mingle harmoniously with each other as long as we don't forget ourselves and get completely plastered. And therein lies the crux of the problem. What to make of alcoholic excess and wild intoxication. We all know that the temptation to drink booze until we're flat out on the floor, is too good to resist. Still, concessions will be made and as long as we don't stagger out of our homes on the day after Boxing Day and collapse onto the pavement with a full tank of lager from the previous day then maybe things will proceed as normal. 

Still, this is the one Christmas when we will quite literally have to err on the side of caution, consciously avoiding contact with each other and remembering the repercussions of our actions if things get out of hand. But hold on Christmas, in essence, is all about family and extended family and how will that be physically possible? We will be in close proximity with each other whether we like it or not and if all uncles, aunties and cousins all want to share the same sofa space how on earth is this going to work?

There is a nagging suspicion here that the very nature of Covid 19 doesn't allow much room for manoeuvre quite obviously or so it would seem. If we're all in the same dining room and the dog is scurrying around in the way that all excitable canines always do, then this has all the makings of a taboo practice. We'll be moving in and out of the hallway, strolling into the kitchen for another top up, running up and down the stairs at the same time, colliding with the kids again and then meekly apologising for getting in each other's way. This is not a viable proposition and privately we must know it. 

On the second day of December the lockdown will be released again rather like one of those Foster and Allen albums advertised every year. The pubs, clubs, restaurants, cafes, nail bars, hairdressers, utility shops, haberdashery stores, fast food outlets and the chippie on the corner, will all be open yet again just when you thought they'd be closed forever. Oh and we mustn't forget the gyms because some of us have really missed the gyms. And then of course there are the swimming pools and Lidos which may not be advisable in the depths of winter but then again who cares? And those leisure centres.

And then the offices that have flung open their doors will insist on their perennial parties in the local watering hole. Huge groups of revellers will descend on the bar like people in a desert who haven't seen water for years. They'll reach over each other, lunging out for trays groaning with every bottle of amber liquid imaginable. The cocktails will be flowing, glasses of beer spilling profusely everywhere and before you know it social distancing will seem a total irrelevance. 

However the warnings have been announced, the conditions and boundaries are in place and you all know what you've got to do. It is almost Christmas after all and for the Jewish community it'll be Chanukah which some of us just adore because doughnuts will be devoured with some relish and the sweetness of life will be rejoiced in. If you're preparing for the festive season now then some of us wouldn't say no to a mince pie or seven. Or possibly not. Keep well everybody and keep smiling.