Today has been a good day, if not particularly productive on the Christmas front.
Once again, I am in charge of Young Faris
(or, possibly, he is in charge of me) leaving Mr B in charge of the Advent Candle. Yesterday we burned the Candle all afternoon and evening but by the time we headed up to bed, it was still only December 14th. The point is, I can't see Mr B remembering
to burn the candle while I am away so when I return home on Saturday morning, I fear that it will still be December 14th. Christmas 2013 is a long time coming.
deconstructed donkey has now been constructed. Mr B says he looks as if he is pooping. I think this may be something to do with the way I sewed his back legs and tail on. I try to rearrange his back legs but Mr B is still laughing like a drain. I can do no
more. I shall wrap him up with tender, loving care and present him to my Little Welsh Boys on Christmas Eve. He will look good in their nativity scene (one I knitted earlier.) I will suggest they position him behind the manger where nobody can see what he
appears to be doing.
Faris and I have had a lovely day. We have been to the park, sung songs, read books and thrown food on the floor - normal nine-month-old stuff.
At the park we met another gran with her two grand-daughters aged three and five. She was wondering what to do with her girls once they had exhausted the park. I suggested she take them over the road to Tescos cafe for a drink and a bun. She appeared horrified
at the thought. "I'm not doing that!" she asserted. I thought about some of the wonderful conversations I have had with assorted grandchildren over an orange juice and a bun.
We have a skinny latte and a fruit scone. Or, at least, I have a skinny latte and a fruit scone. Faris chews on the London Taxi Cab Association diary which his Dad gave me this morning. The cafe manageress comes to see us. "He has the face of an angel!"
she asserts. Young Faris looks at me, his eyes full of devilment.
Oh and by the way, Young James who was disappointed to be an ox in his school nativity play because
he wanted to be "a human" may like to know it could have been a whole lot worse. Yesterday I heard of a child who was cast in his school nativity play as - wait for it - a hailstone.
For once in my life, words fail me...