I’m already frazzled, and we haven’t even reached Christmas Eve yet! I think it must be the effect of having to fight my way through Waitrose on a Sunday morning to pick up all the stuff I failed to get earlier in the week at Tesco due to the presence of son distracting me from my purpose. And I still don’t have dates, because Waitrose is so posh they only do dates in stylish bags that you can’t reseal, rather than the bog standard ‘Eat Me’ ones in a box that everyone else does. Maybe our corner shop will have dates. Is it possible to have Christmas without a box of dates?
Also I made the mistake of inviting my mother to join us for church lunch and carol service today. This considerably lessens the restorative effect of being with my church family. Besides which it was freezing in the big draughty church hall we rent for worship.
When I was small we had a card nativity set with a background scene into which you slotted all the characters – a bit like Pollock’s toy theatres but much more kitschy, with rather Sunday schoolish art and bits of glitter. Unfortunately somewhere back in the mists of time we had lost the baby – he was after all the smallest piece. That’s how my Christmas feels just at the moment. We’ve lost the baby. Amidst the sprouts and the crackers, the tree and the parcels, the culinary slip-ups and the disappointing purchases, can I find him again?