This week

Was it good for you?

So, Christmas is going GREAT. Really.

I had a call from Santa this morning. (I know!)

"Sorry to bother you," said Santa. "I know that you're busy this week, blowing your nose and sneezing and weeping."

I sneezed loudly into the phone.

"Bless you," said Santa (he's so caring!). "But I don't know what to ask my elves to put aside for the Little Lattes. I know that the Eldest Latte has asked for a headboard and light for her bed to make it more comfy to read in bed, but she'll need something else to open, won't she? Any suggestions?"

"Um. No. I don't know what she'd like."

"Riiiight." said Santa. "Well. Maybe some ideas for the Littlest Latte? I have nothing at all for her yet."

"She said 'ponies'," I said. "But I don't know what kind she means, because we have loads of ponies that the Eldest Latte played with, and she barely looks at them. Also, she made us pack up all the Playmobil and put it in the loft because it was 'untidy'. I don't know what to get her."

"That is a problem," said Santa. "There's only days to go, and I really do need to get this sleigh packed."

"Oh, Santa, I don't know what to say," I sighed. "I'm just so glad you exist. Because I can't imagine what kind of a state I'd be in, if I'd bought nothing yet and had no clue what I was looking for, and was sitting in bed with a laptop and a streaming cold trying to get ideas from Amazon the day before they stopped guaranteeing Christmas delivery. That would be a nightmare."

And then Santa just laughed at me.

"Ho. Ho. Ho."

This is what 40 looks like.

First up, breakfast out with friends.


Then afternoon tea at the gorgeous Midland Hotel. Starting when the sun is crisp and wintry...


and ending when it's almost gone.


Then some laughing at a comedy gig with Mr Coffee.

So, 40. Not quite so horrific after all.

If you know a good gospel choir, send them round

Joy has visited The Coffee House.

I was becoming jaded. I was bored of blogging, I was bored of life. I was bored to tears with our advent calendar. Out it came again, in all its huge, boring, wooden glory, along with the Christmas Ice-Hockey Playmobil which becomes more depleted year on year.

Today I wearily tested all the Christmas tree lights, expecting every single string of them to be dead.

But then a strange thing happened. Not only did all the lights work, but at the bottom of the bag we found something we have been looking for all year.


You may remember the terrifying saga of Marv's missing head, which was only recently reunited with his body. Lotta has remained a mystery for months. While her friends frolicked happily around the Coffee House, with a gleeful disregard for whether or not they were headless, poor Lotta has been shut up in a plastic bag since January.

It makes my current ennui pale into insignificance. I have a poorly foot, too much to do, and children who don't listen to a word I say, but at least I haven't been shoved in the loft for a year. And toys recover fast.


I hope I'll be welcomed back into the fold as quickly.