Darning my socks, my well worn labours of love, I sit in the warm. Thinking. On this auspicious night of two planets dancing with the moon, I ponder. I dream.
I dream of decorations given with joy, love and bittersweetness for futures. Of Christmases with essential pieces missing and how these things can be reconciled. I dream of foods made in time honoured ways by hands new to these skills, these moments.
This season is my season. I will repent, I will prepare, and I will honour. In this time of waiting for the new and wonderful I think think of the past and take from it, recognising the importance of waiting.
Advent and Christmas starts with the joining together of many voices in an old old church. Peering out over be - hatted heads lit up in the glow of many candles, and the steam of hot breath. It really begins in the last chorus of "O come O come Emmanuel" when I listen out for my dad's voice playing chase and catch with the voices of the congregation as he sings the tenor part for one line, because he can, and the bass part for the other.
This year I shared this moment, the moment of many years of my life in a church so old the pews are boxes to keep you from being distracted by your neighbours. I am thankful for it, and expectant of sharing it for many years to come.