After a beautiful and perfect christmas eve, we're now on the eve of my 43rd birthday. My mum was 43 when I was 18 and I thought it sounded an ancient age to be. It still sounds ancient, but I really don't feel it, or look it thank god.
On christmas eve we went to the crib service at the village church. It was the perfect start to christmas being called into church with a peal of bells. After a few carols we were off home again to a candlelit supper followed by the Darling Buds of May christmas eve programme. Then it got tense, excitement rising as stockings were hung. We read Willow at Christmas as we've done since they were a toddler and a baby (Mr Bun and I are dangerously nostalgic and melancholic and hang on to traditions fiercely). After strict instructions not to repeat last years 4 am wake up call they were off to bed.
They were true to their promise and came in on Christmas morning, dragging their stockings onto our bed after 7am. I love the whole Santa preparations, from the letter, drink and biscuit to the excited yell of "he's been, he's been". I remember this so clearly from my own childhood and now love watching it with our girls. We're so lucky that they believe in magic still. Mind you they know we do.
Eldest Bun had fun laying the table for lunch. She was busy wishing the time along waiting for grandparents to arrive and present opening to begin. When I was wee we had to wait until about 4 o'clock for the presents. Lunch would pass and then the grown-up's would wash up. I'd think at last - now we can get on with it. Then my aunty or mum would say shall we have a cup of tea first? I'd be pulling out my hair by this stage.
Now with family christmas get togethers over, it's time for birthdays, drinks with friends and a New Years eve dinner to look forward to.
I also need to plan some sort of a give-away for the new year as this blog will be having it's third birthday. I'll have a think and get back to you very soon.