A little bit of Christmas magic

My two have been a little unenthusiastic about writing to Santa this year. In fact they were getting me quite worried with their reticence.

"We trust Santa to get us some nice surprises," said H8 with heavy emphasis on the 'trust' bit. Hmm.

R7 accompanied her sister with an enigmatic smile.

Then yesterday two jolly envelopes arrived with the postman (stoically on foot as our driveway still resembles the Cresta run), one for each girl, postmarked Lapland. They were intrigued.

In it Santa told them he had lovely surprises for them and their friends, who were named, and that he knew about our chimney and was looking forward to whooshing down it on Christmas Eve.

"How does Santa know about my best friend?" said R7 wide-eyed. Best friends are quite changeable at this age and Santa knew the current favourite.

I am definitely coming to your house on Christmas Eve, wrote Santa in H8's letter, is there something you would like me to bring for you? Now let's see, you have a nice wide chimney so I can whoosh down into the fireplace without getting stuck.

H8 was very impressed indeed with that. We have an enormous Cimne Fawr. So that's how he's been getting in all these years.

You'll have a lovely surprise on Christmas Day, he added in R7's letter. When children make a special Christmas wish the wind brings their wishes all the way to the North Pole and whispers those wishes in my ear.

They were quietly thrilled with that. We always put their letters to Santa in the wood burner and send them to the North Pole using the medium of fire, sending the words on the wind as smoke. Obviously our method of communication works.

The got out paper and pens and wrote letters back to Santa.

Thank you for all of my presents over the years, wrote H8.

How did you know about my best friend? asked R7 (who still can't get her head round that one.)

So through the medium of the internet I would just like to record a colossal Christmas-sparkly thank you to Santa (and to his little helper) for a lovely bit of Christmas magic.

A slight technical hitch...

I've had a slight technical fault with my car. This morning the oil fell out and landed in a big shiny puddle on the driveway.

Most inconvenient.

Apparently the oil filter was loose. That would explain the drips of oil on the driveway under the car for the last week. Much-Maligned Husband fixed it, of course, then got to drive it to work by way of a reward (it has a CD player; the other car doesn't.)

The whole scenario, of course, signals the difference between men and women. Men, I'm told (by M-MH) would have spotted the drips of oil and fixed the leak. Women, according to M-MH, would have ignored the leak, hoping that it would 'go away' or 'mend itself'. He is also firmly of the opinion that, had the warning light come on during the school run, I would have carried on driving until the engine seized. Now, I know I'm not that stupid, but it's best if he's kept in the dark about that.

"Why have a dog and bark yourself?" I told him, handing him a jar to open.

***

So Christmas is nearly upon us. Cinderella and Beach Barbie (aka Hannah and Rosie) have performed their school show three times now. They only had small parts, being at the littlest end of the school, but had a thoroughly good time. Parents and Grandparents sat on tiny little chairs and clapped enthusiastically through the pain of our numbing buttocks. The show ran for two hours as every one of the 103 pupils at the school had to have their moment of fame, but it was two hours of solid entertainment, with some astonishingly talented young performers. We smiled proudly and mopped sentimental tears.

The children are so tired today though after two consecutive evening performances. They were due to have a day off school to recover, by order of the headteacher, but instead they have a seasonal visit by Jane Hutt, Assembly Education minister, so had to be coaxed from their deep slumbers and made smart. There will be a pretence of working at the curriculum which has been abandoned for the last few weeks in favour of show business.

Tomorrow is the big school Christmas party when uniforms are cast aside with the curriculum and the fun starts again. Sion Corn (Santa) is scheduled to visit, perhaps for final confirmation that every one of the children has been most exceptionally good this year.

Back at home the presents are (nearly) all wrapped and the fridge is beginning to fill with the necessities for a seasonal feast. I'm not sure if everything is ready, but for once I'm so full of the spirit of Christmas, that I'm not too worried about anything else. There are a few outstanding bits and bobs, but I haven't got to worry about braving the festive crowds: I've sent M-MH off with a list!