Well, it's a funny ould life, isn't it?
I am not weighed down with grief exactly, it's more like it's constantly consuming a small percentage of my RAM and bonhomie. At this time of the year, predictably enough, I'm more conscious of it. A packet of (that weird, salty) liquorice on a cafe shelf, for instance, and I think, I won't be buying that this year. Who likes it, apart from my father? No one. (Well, maybe some Dutch people, eh, Valery?)
And yet, here we are, having muddled through another December. Somehow all is ready for tomorrow and I feel peaceful and content.
Jay is a wonder. Finally he has seen the point of his feet, (other than greeting them with a HIYA when I take his socks off) and is using them for transport. He's so funny, rolling around the place like a drunken sailor, grinning and applauding himself. Magic.
I still have so many moments of pure surprise and delight when I re-realise (I mean. I do realise but this is a different level of realisation. I really realise. It suddenly seems REALLY real - oh shut up, me.) there's this fabulous hilarious bold toddler living with us and he's actually ours. He's our Jay-Jay.
Oh my lucky, lucky stars.
Happy Christmas, all who visit here, I wish you every good thing this Christmas and new year.