I tried celebrating Christmas like the British

I put my Christmas tree up in November, and I’m happy with that decision. Putting it up is a pain in the ass, so why do all that work just to leave it there for two weeks? I want a decent amount of time to look at it and enjoy it.

November in England is probably my least favourite month. It gets dark so early, but the Christmas lights aren’t up yet. By my ninth Christmas here, in 2024, I wasn’t waiting for December to bring some of that into my own flat. First came the tree, then, once December arrived, a homemade wreath and mulled wine.

Our small, sparse tree

Our Christmas things live in a cupboard outside because the flat has hardly any closet space. Every year I bring them in and wonder what might crawl out of the box. This time I found a couple of cobwebs, which was concerning enough, and got on with assembling the tree in the living-room corner.

It’s an old Marks and Spencer pre-lit tree, bought at a discount years ago. It was a better size for our previous flat, so it looked a bit small in this one, but I wasn’t buying a replacement yet. I’ve been converted to pre-lit trees because they’re so simple, and a cheap, slightly sparse tree can still do the job.

Growing up in Ontario, my family usually chose a real tree at a Christmas tree farm, where there would be hot apple cider. By cider I mean the juice, not the alcoholic drink. I liked that tradition, but real trees are a hassle and don’t last as long as I’d hope, so I was sticking with our skinny plastic one.

I couldn’t think of a huge national difference in the trees themselves. Most of this came down to personal traditions. At home we always had a tree skirt, a circular piece of fabric covering the stand with presents sitting on it. My partner thought I was mad when I explained it, but I bought one anyway. This time I remembered to put it down before all the baubles went on.

That’s another small difference. I’d call them Christmas ornaments in Canada, while here they’re baubles. I wanted each one to hang freely, so the bendable branches were useful for moving things out of the way. Once it was decorated, the tree was pretty cute, and I loved having it lit while I sat on the couch under a big blanket.

The wreath versus the wind

By December, I’d finished my second homemade Christmas wreath. Does the second year count as a tradition? I’ve decided it does. It was still on the door and nothing had fallen out, which seemed like a win, until I spotted some tiny baubles at Tesco and decided it needed a few more decorations.

We’d already had a big windstorm, and the wreath was looking a little worse for wear. My plan to attach the baubles with their ribbons didn’t work, and the cheap ornament hooks weren’t long enough to poke into the base. I ended up wrapping some around longer branches and hanging others by their strings.

I’d thrown away the leftover wire, so I couldn’t properly fix the bits sticking out. Pinterest makes this look far easier than it is. In the end I thought it looked cute, decided I was done and accepted that however many baubles fell off in the next windstorm, they fell off.

Mulled wine, with a reading error

Mulled wine wasn’t part of my own Christmas growing up in Canada. Eggnog was more familiar, but I prefer mulled wine. I remembered making it in our old flat and comparing it with supermarket versions, and being surprised by how much better the homemade one tasted.

For this batch I followed a Tesco recipe, with a bottle of red wine that had been sitting in our cupboard. Ginger isn’t my favourite, so I used less. I also didn’t have the requested light brown sugar and made up a mixture with what I did have. This was not going to be an exact recipe demonstration.

The real problem was reading only the first part of the instruction. I saw ‘remove the zest from the lemon’ and grated it. The sentence continued with instructions to use a potato peeler and make thin strips. Too late. I’d bought one lemon, so I peeled the orange as requested and carried on with my grated lemon, knowing I’d have to strain the little bits out later.

I served it in a Christmas mug we’d kept from a trip to Germany, where you could return the cup for your money back. We hadn’t returned ours. The wine smelled great and tasted good, although I wanted it more orangey and considered squeezing in the rest of the orange. Overall, tasty. I’ll take that.

Watch my video, I tried celebrating Christmas like the British.