I have to keep looking at the date on my laptop to check they haven’t just grabbed the nearest CD and are playing Jingle Bells accidentally. It is in fact the 22nd December. I can’t quite believe it.
When I conjure up thoughts of Christmas I picture snow, roaring fires and mulled wine. I don’t think of sun, sand and sea (or vineyards). I have grown up with cold, wet Christmases and that’s’ what feels ‘real’ to me. The locals who fill my life here can’t imagine anything other than a hot sunny day, trips to the beach and family braais. It’s funny how the things you’re used to can so completely determine how you feel about something.
Although I really do like pink sparkly things, I am not a real Princess (unless wearing a tiara at any opportune moment makes it real?)