I know it may seem a little early to talk about the joys of Christmas – indulge me a little here – but last night as we sat down with our diaries and worked out what the next nine weeks would look like, it's pretty clear that Christmas will soon be on our doorstep.
As these darker nights draw in and a cool chill hits the air, I can't help but let my mind wander to the twinkly season ahead. F has already started asking when it will be time for us to get a tree as the shops start to stock advents and snow filled trinkets in the countdown to Christmas.
Even thought we don't have much snow these days, I am still the same now as I was then. As the first flakes fall I am always ready and raring to go, no matter what time the clock says, I'm ready to leave the first impressions in a blanket of white.
And don't get me started on the tree! The annual hike to find the perfect Norwegian pine to sit with through the cold winter days, keep us full of cheer with its winking lights and nostalgic decorations, each holding a memory of its own.
There are so many elements that makes Christmas special for most people: the tree, the food, the presents, family and friends, but for me it's Christmas Eve that holds my heart, not the presents or indulgence of the day itself, but the magic that all children know and most adults forget. It's the belief that something wonderful is about to happen, that people hearts are warmed and a smile touches most faces, friendly hellos in the street and the togetherness the season brings.
I read this book to F every year, and every year I cry when I read it, nothing captures the spirit of Christmas so beautifully and if you ask me I'll tell you, I believe in the spirit of Christmas and the old man himself, and like an old fable carried down through the years, I will pass this on to F and hope he carries the magic in his heart.
Transun for our little family.