I Was Swallowed By A Hippo

Castle life, Aga strife, slummy mummy, average wife

Oranges and Angels

on December 23, 2014

There are three more days until Prosecco Day Christmas Day and I am safely ensconced at my parents’ house with the girls. My husband is sensibly minimising exposure to the chaos and arrives on Christmas Eve. I am feeling pleasantly calm about the whole thing, having gone through the stress of having to be hyper-organised before we left. ‘Santa’ presents (for how long must we peddle this lie???) were dispatched, all wrapped, last week with my parents who came down for the unmissable school concert. Shoddy handcrafted efforts have been hurriedly finished off and wrapped before I change my mind and rush off to M&S. I’m even up-to-date with my Christmas cards , which is a miracle considering they were a week late arriving from the printer.

I strongly suspect that this is the last year of our exploitative festive greeting. Even the youngest was reluctant and I had to change the theme at the last minute as they refused to be wise men – “WE ARE GIRLS”. A mere nuance if you ask me but I respected their wishes and hurriedly hacked up a duvet cover to make angel costumes. Only the dog seemed up for it and is the only one in focus but we got there in the end and some have said it’s our best yet.

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I am unapologetic for that pun. Deal with it.

 

As part of my ongoing, ‘Christmas Is Not Just About Santa’ series of daily lectures, I took the girls to church on Sunday so they could hear it from an expert who I hoped would carry more clout. It was a special family service and lovely minister Steve had organised some activities to hold the children’s interest. We had all been handed an orange and a bag of sundry items on arrival and after listening to the story of the first Christingle, we were encouraged to make our own. Soon the dulcet sound of muttered swear words echoed round the little church as we tried to pierce our oranges with a birthday candle then secure a ribbon round it with cocktail sticks. I was doing quite well until I discovered my youngest was happily munching away on my ‘fruits of the earth’ (dolly mixtures) and the eldest had expertly peeled her orange representing the world and was greedily scoffing the lot.

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This was not achieved.

By the time I got over the shock of her eating a piece of fruit without emotional blackmail or threats of violence, Rev Steve had moved on to Pin the Tail on the Donkey.

I shudder to think what their interpretation of the true meaning of Christmas is now but it was a lovely service and I feel spiritually nourished and prepared for the festive onslaught ahead. Did I just hear a cork popping?

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3 responses to “Oranges and Angels

  1. zoe liston says:

    I want to ‘like’ your blog cos I love it! But word press makes it very difficult for a short tempered time poor hag like myself but I love it. XXX

    Date: Tue, 23 Dec 2014 13:37:12 +0000 To: zoeliston@hotmail.com

  2. […] and miraculously, my husband, into joining me for the Christingle service at our little church.  This was a big hit last year and I’m determined that it becomes a family tradition. The kids were surprisingly well […]

  3. […] and miraculously, my husband, into joining me for the Christingle service at our little church.  This was a big hit last year and I’m determined that it becomes a family tradition. The kids were surprisingly well […]

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