Brussels sprouts, catching up with relatives, watching The Two Ronnies, sitting in a sauna - a selection of people tell Kate Holmquist what rituals mark Christmas for them, ranging from the commonplace to the downright odd.

MY DAD

Pauline McLynn, writer and actor

I am fairly "bah humbug" about Christmas and cannot bear the materialism of it all, though I throw myself into present-buying with the best of them. The main problem with that is that I get one lot of gifts and the husband, who likes to shop at the last minute on Christmas Eve, goes out and goes mad too so we always spend far too much.

To counteract all this I send money to various charities, particularly Cats' Aid and the Donkey Sanctuary and I always send gifts of practical aid like animals and tools to Africa through World Vision Ireland, of which I am patron. The only thing I really like about the whole shebang is the coloured lights on the tree and throughout the house (which I am tempted to leave up all year round for jollification), and Brussels sprouts. I am a sprout maniac.

Christmas this year will be a lot harder as my beloved dad, Padraig, died suddenly in August and we'll be without him. It's not just ourselves who'll be missing out - he ran great poker nights for money with all of the youngsters on our street in Galway and it really won't be Christmas for a lot of lads because we won't have that this year.

LOVE

George Hook, Newstalk 106 presenter and author

I've been doing the Goal Mile at Belfield for 20 years and everybody's there I haven't seen for the year, including John O'Shea standing at the finish line giving me absolute abuse. Then I drive down to O'Connell Bridge and honk my horn in support of the [Unmarried and] Separated Fathers annual protest there. At home, my Austrian wife of 38 years, Ingrid, and the children do a huge traditional Christmas, which is a mystery that I'm still trying to come to terms with.

When I was a child in Cork, we didn't have a lot of money. There was no Christmas tree, no decorations, no turkey, no mince pies, no crackers - yet my parents had astonishing generosity. I remember the presents at the end of the bed, the highlight always being the Christmas annual. The first I can remember was Rupert the Bear. I did not feel deprived as a child because we were living in love. I still believe in the midst of all this plenty that what is most important is that we have succeeded in giving our children love in the family.

THE REAL JESUS

Fr Harry Bohan, Catholic priest and founder of the Ceifin Institute

The coming home at Christmas of so many people to my home place in Feakle, Co Clare is huge to me. The family and community are everything that I live and work for and I absolutely adore Christmas because it's the time of year when family and community come alive. I believe that we are beginning to rediscover the real Jesus Christ who stood beside the sick, the hungry, the naked and the imprisoned, and suffered the hell of the Cross.

At Christmas, I meet many people in the town and when people say: "We're sorry for you priests", I will say: "Why should you be sorry?" Suffering and pain are natural to Christianity. I think it has been easy to push God off the pedestal created by the institutional church because God never belonged there in the first place. I know families who this Christmas will celebrate the real Jesus by delivering 20 or 30 Christmas dinners to the sick and the old.

MY BROTHER'S HAPPINESS

Seán Mulvany (11), Fatima Mansions resident

I can't wait to see the expression on my three-year-old brother Patrick's face when he gets his presents because this is the first year he will understand Christmas. Then we'll go to my Uncle Peter's house on Ingram Road and I'll see my seven cousins, then we'll all go home to our own houses for dinner and meet back up again later in the day. Where I live, at Fatima Mansions, there are lights and decorations on all the balconies and I hope this year it will be less noisy with no trouble.

Hopefully people will be happy about what they get for Christmas because a lot don't respect the things they get. People ask for a lot, play with it for two days and then it gets wrecked. Last year there were lots of people ripping around on mini motorbikes but that's stopped. It would be great to have a playground and an AstroTurf pitch, but the main thing for me is being with family.

WATCHING THE WEIGHT

Conor O'Dwyer, champion jockey

I wouldn't be starving, but there'd be no second helpings of Christmas dinner because I'd be riding at Leopardstown next day. How much I eat depends on the weights. When you were young, you'd ride any horse no matter how bad he was, even if it meant you did without dinner the whole day, but I'm at the place in my career where I can pick and choose my horses a little bit, so I won't spoil Christmas by having to spend Christmas Day in the sauna, as has happened in the past. I do most of the cooking for my wife and three children on Christmas Day, just your basic turkey and ham and veg - but no sprouts! I'll have a glass or two of wine. We're not big into desserts, it's the nature of us jockeys.

PANTOMIME AND TOY GUNS

Niall McDonagh, presenter of Neelo on TG4

We were never allowed toy guns as children so now on Christmas Day it's all about guns. The six brothers and sisters aged 24-33 give each other guns from pound shops, anything that fires basically, and run around the house shooting each other. As children we were always brought to panto and I even had roles in a few considering that my mother, Maeve Ingoldsby, has written pantos for the Gaiety. This year she was asked to write Cinderella for the Black Box in Galway (January 1-8) and I'm playing Buttons. I'll never forget as a child being brought backstage to meet Eamonn Morrissey. It was the biggest thrill ever. Even now, all the brothers and sisters have a few pints and go to the panto, where we scream and shout our heads off.

GOSPEL SINGING AND GREAT FOOD

Yemi Ojo, founder, Integration of African Children in Ireland

Christmas in Nigeria is a big celebration for us. Most children get new clothes and shoes, even if they get nothing the rest of the year. Christmas morning, we go to church to celebrate the birth of Jesus Christ and there is a Nativity play. We stress the religious aspect of the holiday more in Nigeria. Here, the stress is more on children's toys. After church in Nigeria, we go home to eat loads of delicious food, especially jollof rice, pounded yams and a special soup. We kill a goat, a cow or a chicken because there must always be meat with jollof rice. Parents, neighbours, uncles and aunties share food and people arrive unannounced to take part in the feast. In Dublin, we go to the Mystery of Christ Church on Christmas morning, where there is beautiful gospel singing. Afterwards, I keep up the African tradition of generosity, preparing African food and inviting all my Irish friends.

BREAKING A FAST

Norman Ruddock, author of the memoir The Rambling Rector

What I will really miss most this Christmas, now that I'm a retired rector, is fasting outside St Iberius Church in Wexford Town for four days, which I did for 10 successive Christmases to raise money for various charities. Everyone comes to see people home on holidays you haven't seen in years. Fasting clears the mind, cleanses the body and gives a heightened spiritual awareness. Then at midnight on Christmas Eve/Christmas morning, I would have a fry-up. The past few years, a Catholic priest joined me in the fast and it was a powerful witness to oneness and brotherhood. I think the way forward is a personal church, shared one-to-one.

THE WIZARD OF OZ

Pat Kenny, RTÉ broadcaster

I love last-minute shopping in the crowds on Grafton Street. From 4pm on, I'm likely to have fallen by the wayside in Doheny & Nesbitts (on Dublin's Lower Baggot Street), where it wouldn't be Christmas without my once-a-year Irish coffee. On Christmas Day I go down to watch the swimmers turning blue at the Forty Foot, then after lunch it's Monopoly on the floor with the family, then we watch The Wizard of Oz. That scene where Dorothy lands in Oz and the world turns from black-and-white to colour always brings back the delight of past, childhood Christmases. On St Stephen's Day I love to walk up the Sugarloaf Mountain, which is great for blowing away the cobwebs. You have to have the flask of hot tea and the batch loaf sandwiches.

COMEDY GIFTS

Paul McKenna, hypnotist

I had Christmas in LA 10 years ago, the sun was shining and it wasn't fun. I need cold, snow, grim London and repeats of The Two Ronnies and Bruce Forsyth. I spend Christmas with my Irish parents, brother and nephew at the family home in London and I still feel a sense of wonderment getting up on Christmas morning and seeing everyone's faces when they open their gifts. I spend a lot of time choosing a present that will reflect what is unique about the person. Most people buy presents they want themselves, but I listen carefully all year and when I hear a clue to what someone wants, I store it in my head. I give comedy presents, too. One year I gave my brother a leather roadie jacket signed by Mark Bolan.

A BEAUTIFUL BIRD

Ross O'Carroll-Kelly, former rugby legend

Chrimbo would not be Chrimbo for me without meeting up with the goys for a shed-load of Britneys in Kiely's of Donnybrook town. We stort pretty early, roysh, and by midnight we're totally horrendified, which is when I stort getting the serious goo for some nosebag. So it's pretty much a tradition at this stage, roysh, that I grab a Jo, go back to the old pair's place and tuck into the turkey, which the old dear always cooks the night before. Even though I've got my own gaff now, it's a tradition I've decided to, like, keep up. Last year, I left the Jo Maxi outside with the meter running while I went in and picked the thing clean, before continuing on my way, like Santa on his sleigh. Of course the old dear gets up the next morning and thinks they've mice. Gets Rentokill out to Foxrock on Christmas morning to fumigate the place. Hilarious. But, hey, that's tradition. Me getting stuck into a beautiful bird on Christmas Eve.

MAMMY'S STUFFING

Elaine Crowley, TV3, Ireland AM anchor

My mother, Mary, can't cook to save her life but her stuffing is A1. Turkey and stuffing is the only meal she cooks all year and no one else is allowed near it. She spends hours over the stuffing, making it the way her own mother taught her with butter and herbs. I have nine brothers and sisters and 10 nieces and nephews, so when we converge on the family home in Newtwopothouse, Mallow, Co Cork, making the meal can be a bit of an ordeal and we're all called in to help prepare the vegetables. Last year, I had to stay in Dublin to produce the news on Christmas Day, and some brothers and sisters were in Australia, so we each had Christmas in our own houses. We were all miserable. We've got to have that stuffing and each other.