hope and faith and christmas trees

Farting like a trouper? Those were my parting words to you? What if I had died, people? What kind of legacy would I have left?

I do sometimes believe I was born without that part of the brain that filters what comes out of my mouth.

So, hey, it’s Friday. This is very good news indeed because it means that tomorrow is Saturday, which means the purchasing of a Christmas tree and, ipso facto, much merriment.

I’m seriously jonesing for some snow. And lots of it. I don’t think I’ll ever quite get used to the idea of there being no snow in winter (in general) and Christmas (in particular). I’ve taken to wearing fuzzy wooly hats with pompoms in hopes of conjuring le snow. If I wish hard enough and burn orange&clove candles and make hot cocoa and purchase the tree, surely the snow gods will reward my efforts?

Faith and hope. Is there a season better suited to those values than Christmas? Is it the twinkling lights? The snowflakes? The tinsel and colourful shiny glass balls that have us all believing anything is possible?

Or maybe it’s all the Baileys and eggnog. Who knows?

All I know is that yesterday, I suddenly called bullshit and made a hell of a lot of room in my life for ‘the good stuff’.

So yes! It’s bloody Friday and we can all thank the good lord for that. And tomorrow there is a Christmas tree. And if that isn’t magical good stuff, then I don’t know what is.