For possibly the first time in seven years. Just got a few WhatsApp messages from a friend who I really miss, briefly chatted to my cousin, and we’re manically tidying the house in anticipation of the Parental Visit tomorrow night. Friends and family suddenly feel a very long way off at this time of year.
This is still one of my favourite Christmas songs:
All the lyrics are good, but particularly
And you, my baby girl
My jetlagged infant daughter
You’ll be handed round the room
Like a puppy at a primary school
– pertinent on the few occasions we’ve made it back to the UK for Christmas with the girls.
When you’re twenty-one or thirty-one
And Christmas comes around
And you find yourself nine thousand miles from home
You’ll know what ever comes
Your brothers and sisters and me and your mum
Will be waiting for you in the sun
I wonder if our beastlings will emigrate when they are older? Will Canada cease to be the supposed utopian escape and become boring and mundane for them? Where will they go instead?
Australia possibly? Or they could look up the other side of the family in South Africa. But my money is on Scandinavia actually. If so, it will still be nearly impossible to imagine a sunny, hot Christmas! I don’t think Carl and I will be drinking white wine in the sun at Christmas any time soon. But in twenty years will we be the ones flying halfway round the world to see our babies at Christmas?
I’ve only ever experienced one hot Christmas, and it was the only one I’ve ever spent away from ‘home’ and family. That was in Nicaragua, exactly ten years ago. This was our view on Christmas Eve 2008. No white wine, but a few cold beers in a hammock!
Merry Christmas everyone!!