ding dong merrily on high
It's Christmas Day one week from tomorrow! Whee! I'd do a jaunty little dance, but I'm sure nobody wants to see that. Last night, our doorbell rang and as Paul opened the door, I could hear Christmas music blaring from tinny speakers. Some people from something called the round table (Paul assures me they are like a Rotary Club, and not some weird cult) were collecting for charity, while a truck pulled a festively lit sleigh slowly down our street containing a rather slimline Santa. Our neighbours stood in their driveways, bemusedly watching Santa's driver try to negotiate the end of our cul de sac, while Santa waved at us and wished us a happy Christmas. He stopped and spent a bit of extra time chatting with the little blonde girl from across the road (she the adorable kid who came to our house a day early this Halloween), and Jasper ran around in circles wagging like a lunatic. It was really quite nice and I hope they do this again next year - although I suppose our son will be too young to know what's going on, it'll still be fun for me.
The neighbourhood and the village down the road are well into the Christmas spirit this year, in terms of decorations. We spotted a giant inflatable Homer Simpson dressed up as Santa over the porch of one house, but he's mysteriously gone missing. I did notice that he was looking a little bit deflated the other day (and to be honest, it was rather unsettling to see him gradually slump down the side of the wall), so maybe he had to be taken down for repairs. There are houses in one neighbouring village that look like they were decorated by some crazed designer from Vegas. On crack. The entire village's lights must dim when these people switch on their Christmas lights; I really must remember to get a picture.
One more week! One more week! Yippie!