Monday, 3 January 2011
There will come a Christmas when my carefully arranged wooden Father Christmas set will not be jostled out of place by an array of characters including a pony in a plastic car, a cardboard cat, a flowered sea serpent and a Christmas card written to a stuffed bear which was found at a second hand toy sale.
And when that day comes, I may find myself less pleased than I might have imagined.
I have no resolutions about a tidier house. Instead, I need to remember that this house isn't a space that I own. It's a space that I presently share, and all the more wonderful for that.