There’s very little gardening going on these days. I wander down to the wood shed with my basket in hand and collect the wood for the fire. On the way I might check in on my coldframe Lettuce or peruse the slow progress of my blanching Chicory (it’s painfully slow!). But other than that I’m mostly dreaming of gardening, reading books, checking out seed catalogues. Nearly, signing up for a half plot at the nearby allotments (am I mad?) and then thinking better of it.
It’s the week before Christmas and so we’re hanging out at home with the fairy lights on all day, watching snowy films and drinking coffee. My dresser says it all really. Sinking in a sea of handmade decorations that vaguely resemble Santa, and regretting that I didn’t get my act together earlier and reciprocate all the lovely cards that Jackson got from his school friends (must be more organised next year!).
The kitsch Reindeer lights are a taste of what the rest of the house looks like, my ever present Homemaker collection just waiting for the big day, the Santa jug and mugs also waiting for some eggnog to be made. And of course the gin, it wouldn’t be Christmas without the gin. KitchenAid’s at dawn and champagne glasses twinkling in the light – we only have three but then we only need three since Granny is visiting.
The days before Christmas are my very favourite days of the year and I cherish every second of them. Infact, I have way too many Christmassy things I want to do and not enough hours to do them in.
But I did find some time to snuggle down and do my annual reading of ‘A Child’s Christmas in Wales‘ by Dylan Thomas. It’s the most perfect Christmas book in my view, not least because he could be describing all of my childhood Christmas’s rolled into one – remember when you used to go out and play with the other children in the street on Christmas day?