As it is now exactly 12 days until the Big Day, I thought I might give you a Christmas Progress Report. It will be a kind of Twelve Days of Christmas without the turtle doves.
This is not intended in any way to stress you out at the thought of how well I am coping with the Onset of the Festive Season. Rather I hope you will find it reassuring to find out just how well prepared you are, compared
with others. Such as me.
ONE: The Advent Candle. You will be pleased to hear that according to my Advent Candle it is only 7 December, despite the
fact that we are fastidious about lighting said candle every evening and allowing it to burn away merrily until it is time for us to go to bed. Well, to be honest, Mr B isn’t that fussed one way or another but he has grown accustomed to doing the
actual Lighting of the Candle with his lighter every evening, ever since I used up the last of the extra long matches.
TWO: The Presents. Mr B is the King Of On-Line
Placing Of Present Orders – or KOOLPOPO for short. All I have to do is send him a link and he will be onto it like a dog with a rabbit (what a horrible expression that is, by the way. Poor rabbit.) He is not so keen on the whole “Walking
Round the Shops Searching Out Ideal Gifts For The Difficult To Please” business, possibly because he doesn’t get the whole bit about the frequent stops for coffee and a chat which makes shopping with the Darling Daughters so much fun. Still,
thanks mostly to KOOLPOPO, we only have two more presents to buy.
THREE: The Wrapping Up. Mr B doesn’t do wrapping up. But that is fine because I love
it. It is my favourite part of Christmas preparations. One day (I tell myself every Christmas) I will get my act together in time to go on a day course in gift wrapping which will enable me to present (joke!) my nearest and dearest with exquisitely wrapped
gifts. With curly ribbons and everything. For the time being they will have to be content with my extravagant use of Sellotape which makes every parcel such a struggle to unwrap.
FOUR: The tree. The tree is still in the loft. Mr B shows no signs of looking for the long pole which will open up the loft and allow the loft ladder to miraculously descend. I think I had better have a rummage around in the bedroom cupboard to
see if I can find it, in order to avoid the whole “Where did you put it?” routine. If only my Swift Girls were here to help with the Tree Decoration as on so many Christmasses past!
FIVE: Christmas tree lights. We have none. We need to buy some. Hopefully before all the shops sell out and are no longer able to Lighten Our Darkness.
SIX: Christmas cards. Great progress here. We have posted them all and are crossing all our fingers and toes that we don’t receive too many cards from people we have forgotten, necessitating another foray to the shops.
We still have to rescue our card holders from the loft (see also Tree, above) so that we can properly display the cards which all our wonderful family and friends have been generous enough to send us.
SEVEN, EIGHT, NINE, and TEN: Our four families appear to be looking forward to either welcoming us into their homes or joining festivities at Our Place over the festive season. We are making all kinds of plans for our
twin roles of being either Perfect Guests or Perfect Hosts. Setting oneself up for perfection is generally a Bad Idea but at Christmas you just have to make the effort. It is, after all, The Thought That Counts.
ELEVEN: The Food. Mr B is panicking about how we will find the time to buy the food we need for our “Second Christmas” when we will be on the road all the previous day, travelling
home from our Welsh Christmas. Personally, I am hoping he will turn into KOOLFO (King of On Line Food Ordering) which sounds a bit like that rather delicious Indian ice-cream he likes so much. The thing is, I have much more important things to
think about, like 12 below...
TWELVE: Finally, I know you are all concerned to hear how I am getting along with delivering the donkey. The answer is, there
are pieces of knitted donkey - body, ears, legs, tail - scattered about the place, waiting to be sewn up into something approximately donkey-like. He is like a knitted version of those spectacular dishes cooked up on programmes like Masterchef.
In short, he is a Deconstructed Donkey.
Which is rather like my preparations for Christmas. However I am not fretting, I am simply trusting that
some day soon everything will come magically together.
It always does. ..