And in a big quiet house,
Not a creature was stirring,
Bar our own country mouse….
You see, this is the problem. I really like midnight mass, and was glad to have dragged my heathen family to it (it’s a yearly tradition now, complete with in-jokes, japery and looks of confusion). However, since my normal bedtime is 10.30 / 11 ish (I know, how rock’n’roll can one girl be?) I have to drink a load of coffee and tea to stay awake for the service (Oy, what next? Me complaining about my back? It’s official, am an O.A.P.). So now it’s 1.30, I’m in my PJs, I’m dying to get to bed because it’s the big day and I get to see what my family think of their gifts, but can I sleep?
Oh heck no.
So I am sat here, blogging away and surfing the net (which is, of course, comme une ghost town because…er, Christmas?), eating cheese and attempting to convince my caffiene assisted brain that it really is time to hit the hay. Hmmmmph. Also, can’t go for a walk or anything to tire self out – there’s a whole housing estate of primary schoolers waiting for a glimpse of Santa / reindeer / elves, and I’m a little too smiley, short and chubby not to be mistaken for a little helper.
Church earlier was nice though, but my family were a tad confused by the whole Eucharist thing. Dad and Peter really seemed to enjoy is…Mum and Swiv were a little more bewildered. But I think they enjoyed more than they disliked, and I do like going to church at Christmas. Call me a sap, but I believe in the inherent goodness of the season, the wanting to help others, to share, to spend time with the ones you love, to think of those you’ve lost or those who are in need. I think it has the potential to be a real chance for regeneration and change, where people want it to be. It certainly serves as a catalyst in my little world,at least.
I hope this post finds everyone happy and well, and looking forward to (or recovering from) a Christmas full of all the goodness the season has to offer, both sacred and secular.