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December

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We all wore wellies and I wore false nails. In fact my lovelies, the reason why I haven't bored you with my dalliances in the past seven days is not because I was up to my eyes in mud but because I am the kind of woman whose vanity knows no bounds and I simply cannot type when I've got plastic nails glued to my fingertips.  So smack me on the bottom with the Womans  Weekly.

Thank heavens I'm awash with news. Last weekend was spent in the splendour of a  converted  barn in Staffordshire (With the motley crewe walking through Dovedale above) and yesterday we traipsed up the dunes of Mablethorpe to see a thousand seals giving birth to fuzzy white pups on the beach on which they cavort on an annual basis...

So it has been a week of wellies and stepping stones.  Grief cuddled up in giggles and walks in the ountryside. Baths taken in beamed rooms with slipper baths to die for. Hours curled up reading  Winifred Pecks' Home For The Holidays and Jane Brockets' Gentle Art of Domesticity. Dreams made of jam tarts and cosy socks. Dinners of creamy black pepper mashed potato and the quiet realisation that I can be truly terrible company and most wicked of all, couldn't quite give a damn...

And then there was home. A flourescent light installed in the kitchen after seven years of asking.  Deep rooted dirt  finally revealed and just as soon banished. Marks romance declared kaput and goodness knows what written large across his face. Slip covers washed in a fit of aggravated domesticity and too many run ins with my crazy postman as a result of Christmas shopping on the world wide web...

Saturday night I donned my copper coloured gladrags and took to the streets with my darling Mummies in tow. Carrot and turnip and spicy sausage consumed in early celebration of Christmas, followed by port and stilton  and gin and lemonade provided by someone I adored as a teenager and who took  advantage of my general bonhomie to ask me to adore him all over again. (I swear men only find me desirable when I am to be found with a mouthful of chocolate torte and a spoonful of double cream dribbling down my chin...).

And now it is December and there isn't a child in the house washed. I want to be sitting next to my Mum, reading quietly under the vast beams of someone elses house. I want Christmas to be three months away and Christmas Eve to be tomorrow and for there to be  a big bowl of  cheesy bacon Winter night soup bubbling on the stove.  I wish the Christmas tree was already blinking in the corner of the room and life wasn't one long round of  tidying up lego and feelings, rooting through drawers full of junk and  minds full of memories.  I want to live in wellies and wear stilettos  to bed.  I want to treasure forever  the memory of watching Finn  write  F-I-N-L-E-Y  at the bottom of   a letter to Santa Claus and feel as absolutely safe always as I did holding my Dad's hand as we crossed the stepping stones of Dovedale.

I want it to be  December always . For there to be  family forever.  And for the man who asked me to abandon blog posts as long as this and sum up my world in sentences of just six words, I say only this...

Tempus fugit, but December  is bliss.

Comments

It's been far too long since I've popped in Alison....and, boy, did I miss reading your tales! I laugh out loud at your wonderful stories. You're a gifted writer to say the very least!
hugs to you,
andrea

Dearest Alison,
You are simply adorable and deserve every moment of "December Magic" that your heart can hold.Wish you only the very best this Christmas for you and little Finn.

Very good post indeed.
Sorry to say - and to feel it - but I'm very happy about what happened to Mark. Maybe now he will learn.

Sounds like you had a dreamy time. Once we determine what pleases us, we can begin re-shaping our lives to include more of it. Blessings... Polly

Never listen to men who want you to give up this wonderful blog something that your soul so passionately shares the rest of us wordy wonders.

It sounds like your December is so delightful! I hope it continues so lovely.

Oh I am so glad you had a good time away, lovely to have you back!

I would hate you to start using six sentances or less, we would miss out on feeling hungry and having to go make soup and buy books from amazon!

Alison,

I have been reading your blog for a few weeks now. My mama originally sent me the link to it, explaining what a delightful new blog she had found and one she was certain I would adore. Oh, how our mothers are always right!

Your writing inspires me to find joy in the mundane and to take new pleasure in my small but cozy home.

Thank you for reminding me of the blissful wonders of December.

Cheers,
Jennifer

Scrumptious writing, Alison. When are you going to publish a book? I am NOT kidding.

I just watched the Victoria Wood video of "Let's Do It". Hilarious! Very interesting suggestions for lovemaking. LOL! Thanks for that bit of fun.

That sounds like that country song, "Why have you left the one you left me for?" Lovely post... and to the man who wants short posts??? good grief... don't read the long ones, goofus! I love your lovely long posts....

I knew it was just a matter of time. "Hey Mark! *PBBFFTT!*"
Yeah, that was a good ol' American razberry just for him!
Sounds like you had a lovely time and you know we want to hear more about "The Man"! C'mon, dish!!

Happy trails! Get thee back to the wilds soon. It obviously does you a World of good.

P.S. Can you get Net access in Paradise on Staffordshire? We wouldn't want you to disappear for good!

I feel the same about December too - it's a lovely special month :-)

All I want for Christmas is to become a gifted writer like you!

Your time in the mud sounds fabulous.

What are copper gladrags? Could you please write a 'Guide To Snazzy Brit Speak'? I need a glossary, at least.

Mark? Oh, dear, I want to hear about that in depth, too. Is that gorey of me? I want to see him wallowing in the muck of his bad choices. But perhaps that's nasty of me and not very Christmas-like.

I look forward to your every post. Thanks for having this nice, soft corner of the world for us to wrap ourselves up in. It's warm and always oh-so-welcome.

OohLaLaura

Gorgeous post. You write with such delicious description.

But could you please back up to the part about Mark?

Someday, you will compile these thoughts and others into a book, and I will buy the book, because you are able to convey on paper what others cannot. May you have many, many more posts rich with words, both ethereal and earthy.

...welcome back, sounds/ looks like a lovely time was had by all - so Mark's romance has failed huh? Are you not-so-secretly pleased? I hope you have a wonderful Christmas, you deserve it and hey, there's nothing quite like a gathering with the girlies is there! x

December IS magic!

While things all about us change, there is something eternal & unchanging come December.

I love walking across the fields everyday, wellies are my favourite footwear at the moment,
enjoy the december days,
glad you had a lovely break, it sounded lovely.

I am so glad to have you back.. There IS magic to December, and it is WAY too short... I just don't want to get to that glaring light that is January 2, knowing the holidays are over and the magic is gone...

Why can't I write like this?
Maybe I need a pair of wellies...

We are glad to see you back but it is never a crime to take time for you-and family. We can't be greedy with your blog!

Glad to have you back Alison. I know what you mean, I love December too, to me it is the most magical month of the year, and I want to enjoy all 31 days of it to the full.
Take Care
Melanie.

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