Saturday, 28 November 2015

Charity, birthdays and a performance

See this heavenly festive jug?

This splendid Father Christmas is a 1950's vintage Bird's Eye custard jug. My parents have an identical one passed down from my sadly departed grandparents, which ONLY comes out at Christmas.
And guess what?! I have picked up an identical one from the Scope charity shop for £1.50. I can't tell you how excited I was when I unearthed it. I have always loved this little Toby jug since I was a young child.

He was, I believe, a limited edition Toby jug and my father can remember going shopping with his mother and buying the jug in Woolworths at a very young age. I have seen copious amounts of custard poured from the top of his jolly head. Cream for our mince pies and Christmas pudding. Possibly a cheeky beer once as a teenager, which was guzzled straight from Santa's bonce, but I won't linger on that in case my parents read this. It is a treasured jug.

You can keep your Black Friday shenanigans, spending very little but giving something back at the same time is where I am still at. Keeping things out of landfill, being grateful for small things, re-loving items that others no longer like. It makes me happy.

This is something else that keeps me happy; reading Christmassy books to the biggest bookworm I know. She will be two in three weeks time, I can't quite believe it.

It wasn't so long ago that she looked like this:

She has been the most precious, unexpected gift to us and brings us masses of joy daily. She slots in well and the other two love her to bits. It's kind of hard not to.

In other news, the Princess has turned 12. How?!

She was also a very beautiful baby;

Her birth was hideous and traumatic and we still count our lucky stars that she is with us. 

Christmas is rushing closer and I am feeling a little stressed. Nowhere NEAR completing my Christmas shopping, I have written many Christmas cards but not addressed them. Not planned much at all. It isn't helped by Sweet Child turning two on December 23. Eek.

And on a final note, the Prince came rushing out of school the other day and proudly announced he is a leopard in the school nativity play. A leopard, I thought to myself. Why do schools have to make it so complicated for parents? Why an exotic animal? Hardly festive is it? How on earth would I source a costume? I can't sew. I lack imagination when put under pressure. I can't exactly Bet Lynch him up in a leopardprint catsuit, although it would have made a great laugh on his 18th birthday in terms of photos.

"Are you sure?" I asked. "Are you definitely going to be a leopard?"

He nodded vigorously.

"Definitely a leopard."

So I stressed silently within and unpacked his school bag once we got home.

I found the letter containing details about the nativity play.

And of course, he is going to be.....a shepherd.


(I got this book from a charity shop recently too!)