Wait until next year

A day of Christmas shopping. Some people will try to convince you this is a stupid, hellish experience. And yet it was lovely. It felt so much more meaningful than just clicking on websites. Maybe I’m just a luddite, maybe I’m just a sentimental fool.

There were moments of gentle humanity and humour. The kindness of shop staff, the heroes of the season. Fellow shoppers opening doors for each other. The woman at the fast food place who took my tray to empty in the bin after emptying her own. The bus driver, seeing a woman holding a huge hamper at the upcoming stop, miming “For me? You shouldn’t have!” as he pulled up.

Basking in the late morning beerlight

The low winter sun passes the pub glass

One frost through another

Another glass raised

Rare for such blue skies on a Monday

Or to see the cold but not feel it

A baking day. It is good to get out and about in the run-up to Christmas, but it is good to have some time at home too, a shelter from the madness of the festive season.

It is sometimes good to make something rather than buy, buy, buy. It is good to make something with loved ones, for loved ones.

I’m no baker, but I enjoyed the process. The weighing and waiting. It doesn’t hurt to slow down now and then. It doesn’t hurt to have cake now and then.