443. December is here

 December is here and all the lights in town are up. The wreath craze I started some years ago - and that was dutifully documented somewhere in this blog - has started again. A group of ladies have taken up on making wreaths out of various types of branches (real ones, they seem to have an army of loggers working for them), bits of cardboard, string, foam and this year all sorts of ornaments have been added: Santa's hats, lantern, fluffy things and fake snow flakes.

And they get bossy too.

'Hi!' One said to me the other day. 'We're putting your wreath up tomorrow.'

'Oh thanks but I still have mine from last year and I'll be putting it out on the first.'

That shuts her up. After the cork board war I seem to win the wreath war. I guess I'm just a born warrior.

On my way home, I wonder if they will allow me the few days left before the first and if I will indeed locate my wreath (theirs) from the previous year. I remember I did add some fairy lights to it, to make it more mine and to make it more fun. I have lost the interest I had that first year of making one from scratch.

'It's behind the door, mum! Actually it's been there all year!'

Ooops. Baby's noticed then. I go behind the door and indeed next to my husband's horrible neon blue dog-walking-raincoat is the 2023 wreath. It is covered in spiderweb and could pass for Hallowe'en deco. A good dusting and it will be good to go. I take it down from its hook and it is so dry by leaves and needles and bits of branch come off. There is a green and white ribbon.

'Did we really have this on our front door? It's ugly. Go get the scissors Baby and we'll cut that off.'

Baby goes and gets the scissors. Baby and I get on like a house on fire. Something to do with the fact that she is home alone with me and that I give in to practically anything she wants. Only this weekend we've (she's) acquired a multi-function toasted sandwich machine that also makes waffles and grills anything from bacon rashers to sausages and stands on its end for practical storage. And a 2,000-piece puzzle. Brooklyn bridge with Manhattan in the background.

'That bit of water's going to be so hard to do.' Baby says to me.

'Yes, these towers too! Look! Rows and rows of the same windows, with the same light on them.'

That should take my mind away from cork board disputes and the guilt of  being far too generous when grading papers. (Kids love me this year!) And I've realised that funnily the more generous I am with the grades the quicker I mark the papers.

I get fed up with the wreath very quickly, there's now dried leaves everywhere and dust from the dried up branches. I add a tiny snowman with a bright red nose and a black hat (Al Capone style), bits of fake holly and apples covered with silver glitter. Not the best but it is cold windy and wet and I do not want to go and get some real holly in the garden. I am leaving it all for the birds this year.

'Come on Baby, let's go shopping!'

'Yay.'

We head up the hight street and buy more of the ridiculous snowmen with Al Capone hats, some fluffy pink and white angels with wings coming out of their hats instead of their backs and there's 50% off garlands of baubles with tiny lights inside them (ooooh!) and tea-lights cups with more silver and gold glitter. Some are broken so we get 80% off. We carry the load home and set all this around the house and I put the baubles on the upstairs window sills all around the plant pots there.

'Great idea!'

baby loves it and so do I. I wonder if the elves-ladies will notice and if they will do the same. Now that would be good lights all down the street.