# Deck The Halls #

Well! The past couple of weeks have been terribly - for want of a better word - mixed. There have been laughs and tears, amusements and annoyances, surprises and predictabilities, joys and distresses, comforts and discomforts.
     We've lived through the distress and grief of trying (and failing) to aid a young cat that had been struck by a car. The side-splitting hilarity of Bingo's usually fastidiously clean brother Paddy lying full length in a mud filled puddle and the lovely sight on another briskly cool winter evening of Bingo himself somersaulting into a pile of dead leaves, running round in a dementedly delighted circle and then doing it again. The tearful anger and unhappiness during and in the aftermath of an explosive row between mother and daughter (thankfully resolved in a matter of forty-eight hours, but still incredibly horrid; possibly due to the fact that it is rare enough to be unheard of). The deep irritation of 'Health n' Safety Gone Mad' at The Store which is making everybody's working lives difficult (particularly ours) and the annoyed but (mostly) passive resignation caused by inconvenient but unavoidable shift changes. The rueful but unsurprised observation of what the stress of 'The Season' does to probably otherwise polite and pleasant people; turning them into angry and impatient beasts fully prepared to throw down anyone that gets in their way. The rising pleasure of the sights, smells and sounds of Christmas; of having the scents of pine and bread and mince-pies and cakes and vanilla and coffee dancing playfully together in the nose, and the clamour and clangs of Christmassy sounds ringing in the ears, with the added bonus of walking through the town and being surrounded by glorious decoration by day and twinkling lights by night. The unbridled joy of seeing loved ones again for the first time in years. The worry and unpleasantness caused by various illnesses afflicting various people one after the other. The utterly brilliant experience of participating in a Christmas Gala (the highlight of which was the conductor involving every last man woman and child in a rousing rendition of The Twelve Days of Christmas, with a room crammed with people enthusiastically leaping from their seats at the required time and singing their - mostly out of tune - hearts out); so awesome and overwhelmingly fun and emotive that the feeling it created seems set to carry on for days to come. The embarrassed dismay of one's trousers splitting (luckily, while on the way home). The jolt (unluckily, on the way to work rather than on the way home) of slipping on ice and landing into a puddle, leading to a painful limp and the nuisance of a damp backside. The gloriously enlivening sensation of frost sparkling beneath the feet and freezing air biting at the back of the throat. The nice surprise of being given one's first ever 'Snickerdoodle' to try (it was delicious) and the interest of finally learning what Americans actually mean when they say 'soda' (fizzy pop). The small but potent luxury of slipping on a well loved winter coat after having it dry-cleaned. The child-like thrill of planning a shopping list based solely on things one really really likes rather than needs...

A mixed fortnight indeed, and while quite awful at times, just the tonic I needed to remind me how great it is to be alive.
     Thanks, God. The best Christmas present You could have given to me.
     Now, roll on 25th December! I wants me some Hovis crackers and chocolate spread!

In gratitude,
Alice xxx