Stories from my Sketchbook . . . 

I had the telly on a lot last weekend.  I admit, most of the time I wasn’t even watching it, it was just background noise. But every now and then, when I needed a break, I’d stop what I was doing, go make a cup of tea and settle myself onto the couch and ‘drop in’ to watching whatever was on at that moment.

This time of year, of course, it’s pretty much Christmas movie after Christmas movie.  Many of them I have seen before (some of them I can even recite the dialogue . . . )  and most are fun to watch again (although, even at this time of year I can only digest so much sugar . . . ) but it still strikes me every year how seriously weird it is to be watching Christmas movies where everything is all over ice and snow, everyone is rugged up in coats, scarves and boots—and I am dressed in a sun-frock and have all the doors and windows open hoping to catch even the slightest of breezes . . .

I am not complaining.  At all.  I spent a number of Christmasses in Europe (albeit many years ago now) and although I have very fond memories of them I honestly do not miss that kind of cold.  It looks all very lovely and romantic on chocolate boxes and yuletide cards and in Christmas movies, but the day to day getting about and living in it is a whole different story.  So, weird as it feels sometimes, I am quite content to watch those kind of Christmasses from afar.

But to my friends and family overseas who do enjoy a cold and frosty Christmas—go for it!  Eat, Drink and be Merry!  (You can fill me in on the details later . . . )  

The girls and I are thinking of you all . . . and sending warm (literally) and sandy hugs across the miles . . .