I’ve got a confession. I can’t quite believe I’m saying this, but…I’ve been buying Christmas presents since August, possibly before. I’ve said it’s in the name of being organised, and not missing out when I see things I know (hope) people will like. It’s also economical as I’m spreading out the cost of Christmas so I don’t notice it all in one go. This makes it ok that I’ve broken my own rules about not going Crimbo crazy before Bonfire Night is over. Doesn’t it?
But yesterday I went too far and I can’t talk my way round it or justify it any more. I went full Christmas, and I regret nothing.
There was Quality Street, and Christmas songs, and I was at the Salvation Army. It quite possibly could not have been more festive unless you added actual Michael Buble crooning away in the corner.
There was crafting, double sided tape, glue guns, poinsettia, and too many ribbon decisions.
I made a 3D, foot tall snowman out of card, and he is wonderful. It was something I randomly invited myself to, with people I didn’t know, and it was great.
He was relatively easy to make (with patient instructions from the lovely lady running the session), I didn’t glue myself to anything, and he looks pretty darn cool. I decided on the way home, with him sat jauntily next to me on the front seat, ribbon scarf trailing and look of surprise on his face, that I don’t care that it’s not even November yet. I won’t be dancing around in tinsel, or blasting Noddy Holder 24/7, but I’ve decided the Season is definitely here and I’m going to be as jolly as I bloody well like.
Next weekend I’m making a postbox which will just cry out for letters to Santa. Anyone want to join me?