If I ever meet Cliff Richard, I can’t be held responsible for my actions. I’m sure he’s a lovely, lovely man. But one more ‘Children singing Christian rhyme’. Just one – and I MAY CRACK.
Humbugeddybaabaa.
I gave Christmas shopping a go – honestly. I’ve been in M+S for almost twenty minutes (15 of which were spent queuing for the free whisky sample).
But it’s over now. Breathe Emma, breathe.
Glen’s getting a chocolate orange and a new sponge. And a ‘surprise’ (after all, nothing says ‘I love you’ like dental floss).
But it’s all okay. Because the best pressies don’t come from Santa. Here’s a short-list of mine;
- a stone on which a friend of mine stencilled the word ‘hope’
- our cats wrestling on the window sill (and then falling off)
- a hug from my mum
- my granny’s engagement ring
- bubble-wrap
- the smell of oranges.
- Sunday newspapers
- looking around church and seeing so many beautiful people
- finishing a crossword
- a rug knitted for me by hand and prayed over
- seeing friends grow in love for Jesus.
- plastic cheese
- the first page of a new notebook
..what have I missed?