I'm a nonconformist, unconventional, don't-do-something-just-because-everyone-else-is-doing-it type of person.
BUT. I do like the 12 days of Christmas thing. And I seem to like it more the more everyone else ignores it. So I am sad and reluctant to be taking down our decorations before the 5th Jan but Richard's having an operation on Monday and I need to fill the house with sensible food tomorrow (okay, maybe not the whole house, perhaps just the food cupboards) and be in complete control of All The Everythings next week and I don't want that to include time-filling stuff like dealing with Christmas decorations. I am leaving the wreath on the front door for the postman though, I don't see why he should have to partake in our misery
It's Tess's birthday next week too, and we have no idea what we'll be capable of so we tried to buy her a present today. I think that happened...
Taking down the decorations made me sad. As I removed some fairy lights, to which I'd clipped homemade felt decorations, some of the the star-shaped light covers dropped off and bounced across the room. It reminded me of when I'd put them up a few weeks ago and how the rescue lurcher we'd adopted had chased them and stolen them. She's no longer with us after killing our cat, and it breaks my heart every time I think of her and her future and how she was the perfect sofa companion.
Oh dear... That bit probably wasn't something I should have tried to cover in one sentence...
In other news I'm over-stimulated and had to remind myself today of what helps me recover so I wrote a little poem: Pulse
What's that? 'Squished red alien face '? Yeah. Well-spotted