Seasons Greetings.

I barely have enough space in this post, on enough patience to wheeze out of my dying computer, to wish you a very happy christmas, bid adieu to my childhood years and explain how I may, hopefully, possibly be going to the the Philippines (or Nepal) in the autumn. Because I haven’t actually applied for that yet, and if my computer were to race a snail right now, the snail would probably win, I’ll leave that til later. 

So, Christmas. Gaudete, Christus est natuus etc, etc. I’m not entirely sure why I wrote that last sentence in Latin, given I’ve probably misspelt it (Google thinks I mean something about the gateaux of nature) but it’s all about the sentiment. Some years, I can be a bit of a grinch about christmas, but this year I am very, very excited. The last time I was this excited about christmas, I got up at two in the morning to watch my brother smother a chocolate santa up the walls and on the carpet and in his hair (and even, somehow, in my hair). It’s a kind of funny story, but he was only 2 at the time. Because of where I’ve put the nativity, Mary looks like she’s about to throw baby Jesus down the stairs, so I should probably go and sort that out; but its only 4 days till Christmas and going to Church 5 times in one weekend, and that’s quite exciting. Have I overdone it with Christmas now? Maybe …

Moving swiftly on, my birthday. Part of my thought that mentioning me becoming 18 on monday would be creaming for attention, but as 18 is quite a big age, I decided to mention it. In two days time, I will legally allowed to buy alcohol, get drunk, get married, watch horror movies at the cinema, vote, and do all sorts of boring tax things that I don’t exactly remember. I think I’m looking forward to it and dreading with equal measure. There are all the good this about birthdays, like cake and presents and having people do nice things for you, but there’s also the being older and more responsible and the realisation that in mere months it will be time to go out and enter the real world. Sometimes, I wish I could go back to being 7 and stay there forever. But really, age is just a number, right?



Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s