Okay, so abandon hope all ye who enter here if you’re not a lover of everything festive. According to Greenwichmeantime.co.uk there are just 43 days to go until the big day. There’s a bit of a division in our house as the kids and I love Christmas but Hubby’s not really fussed. Having missed out last year by going to Goa we’re going to go all out this year: twinkling lights on the outside of the house, a huge tree in the hall scenting the whole house, a turkey the size of a horse, the works. Being a total Christmas-aholic I’ve already dragged Hubby to the big B&Q near the airport to drool over the Christmas decorations (and came home with a 10 ft twinkling rope light - however did that happen?!). I’m leaning towards black and gold as a theme this year with a touch of very deep purple and I’m already driving Mr Bah Humbug mad with my ramblings over whether tinsel is naff and how many lights you need for a 12 foot tree.
This weekend we went with Hubby’s Mum to choose our first Christmas present. No, we’re not mad, it’s just that she offered to buy us a lovely spruce to plant in the garden (well, it would have been awfully expensive to post). It’s a wonderful present as every year as it grows bigger we can decorate it and we’ll just go on appreciating it forever. It’s now been delivered and is sitting just outside my office window in a huge pot and I can’t wait to get busy with the fairy lights. Ooh, and it was frosty this morning too. Bert and I crunched across the sparkly lawn just as the stars were disappearing and for some reason the fact that I was freezing was perfectly okay (well, I’ve been used to it all summer). We’ve got a huge fire roaring in the unfeasibly expensive fireplace and I’ll spend today happily surfing for the perfect pressie for everyone. Mulled wine anyone?