First CCCXXXIV words of MMXXV

What a Winter it has been so far. Chaotic days at work, a succession of colds that almost felt like one long bug that just never left my system, and then a simply wonderful Yuletime, where family memories were created that will live forever and bring joy with each remembering. Christmas just gets so much better when you're a parent, and it keeps getting better and better as each year goes by. Mathew, at 7, is absolutely prime age for the whole Father Christmas shenanigans, and little Rian, despite his younger day count and less experience of the whole affair, seemed equally as enthusiastic. I think, at times, he was just going along with his older brother and not really understanding what was happening, but by God we got some wonderful moments with them, and not just on the morning of The Big Day itself. I have hundreds of photos that I could share if I ever decided to make this blog a phlog (or whatever you call a blog with photos attached) but some of the best images in my mind are ones that we never even captured. Rian with a sticky bow stuck to his head after ripping into a loosely wrapped present; Mathew getting so excited when his Aunty Hannah turned up unannounced that he nearly hyperventilated; same son tackling a turkey leg because he wanted to 'eat like Homer'; the look of despair on Philippa's face when the lit brandy set off the smoke alarm; seeing myself in the mirror with tears of joy on my cheeks as the occasion got too much for me. All this and more, rolled into one big week-plus celebration of loveliness that gave us all goosebumps and left us all lethargic and spent.
And now, when we are into a New Year and facing a return to the norm, we have a beautiful covering of snow on the ground to enhance the beauty of the area and to continue the festive feelings.
Good. Times.

RC 5-1-26