Is a perfect excuse for not attending almost anything*. Genius Brat has been down with a nasty cough, headache and temperature since Thursday night, which is one reason I’ve not been blogging.
I did however manage to write our annual Christmas letter, a letter I hope breaks the mould of ‘little Johnny has just finished grade 8 piano and will be going to nursery next year’, ‘Anna is writing up her PhD before her gap year’ and ‘Look at these photos of our fabulous Thai holiday and our enormous growing congregation, and here’s me with the Archbishop’.
Our letter usually aims for a certain level of honesty about the struggles we are going through. This year it also has the added extra of an explosion – The Grouch’s dad and stepmum had a gas explosion in the (unoccupied) flat beneath them about a month ago, and had to be evacuated in their nightwear along with everyone in their block. Most of their windows were blown out, all glass in their cupboards was shattered, and their balcony is hanging off. (Fortunately they escaped with only cuts and bruises). This makes for a more exciting Christmas letter, not to mention a more exciting life for them (they are 83 and 73). They’re now back ‘camping out’ in the flat, after staying with Grouch’s sister for a few weeks.
*(although in fact I have spent a very intellectually and spiritually stimulating day today at a seminar on ‘An Anabaptist view on the emerging church’, leaving coughing offspring to hubby to look after. This is modern motherhood.)