Up until mid- November I am terribly blase about Christmas, and then just like that I am a woman in a fluster. Madonna of the Carrier
Last night the Christmas flurry hit me so hard I took it into my head that life would not be worth living if we could not slip between flannel sheets and so the bedroom was transformed into the cosiest of snuggly sanctuaries in the waft of a flannel tartan
So clearly you can consider me 99% done. Ye Gads, I’ve got a festive bedroom and as she who has declared herself determined to have a gentle Christmas this year, I think I might call it a day if you don’t mind awfully? Well after I’ve ordered the turkey from the farm, updated my Festive Planner, created a spectacularly Christmassy playlist, (free of festive cliches, please, thank-you, very kindly), got the boys to get really, really specific about what they want Santa to order from Amazon, worked out when various friends and family will be visiting and generally worried myself into next week, anyway.
Today then, all festive fluster aside, I have been at my desk. Writing. Working. Shivering. For the rain will not stop and though I’m sure it is not officially cold by the very judgemental thermostat’s standards, I am chilly to the bone and no amount of giant cups of
And what else? Well now, I have had an allergic reaction to some toothpaste, have taken up dancing around my bedroom like one of Pan’s (chubby) People, and find myself wholly sick of British politics, when the drama has probably only just begun. One of my favourite mugs has gone missing, I am chopping raw garlic onto everything, and I am reading Peace, Perfect Peace and rather insist you do too, because it is so stuffed with post world war domestic detail that it is making for quite the most perfect companion on evenings like this one when Ste is working and Finn seems rather demented with the kind of teenage stress he doesn’t want to share.
So here I am now. Quite alone. I have eaten an odd little
For now then. I will bid you goodnight, wishing for you too, tartan flannel sheets and nibbly, epicurean delights. Hoping that you have the bliss of silence and twinkles, know how to make your TV work so you don’t have to dither with stubborn technology and have the kind of