Sneak preview

Painting a giggling three-year-old's hands with glittery yellow paint was definitely the best bit.

Bah, humbug: cards part II

As you all know, I love writing Christmas cards and was therefore ecstatic when I was handed a list of 20-odd two-year-olds at M's nursery, who all apparently expected them. Needless to say, none will be forthcoming as (a) I've run out of Christmas cards and (b) I really will lose the will to live. At the risk of sounding 97, what is the world coming to?

House of cards

There's a sense of menace hanging over the household at the moment...yes, the annual Christmas card list needs to be written.

And then cards sent. Lost addresses found. A small sackful of gold given to the Royal Mail so they can promptly lose everything somewhere in a postbox near Abingdon. Just call me Scrooge - I hate the whole tedious process.

For a start I can't actually write with a pen any more - I've spent far too long either writing shorthand or using a computer that my handwriting has degenerated into some sort of illegible spider scrawl, as I can't write fast enough to keep up with what I'm thinking. I suppose I could type stuff out, but then that turns into a round robin, and I'm not going to give Simon Hoggart any more free material for books.

Grrr. I could send e-cards, but they're no use if, like most of my recipients, you're not on email. And they're a bit tacky anyway (the cards, not the elderly relatives).

And you want to know the worst bit? I really really love getting mail of any sort, including Christmas cards. I'm a complete hypocrite - the arrival of the postman is the highlight of my day, and if I actually bothered to put pen to paper more often than the once-a-year-forced-exercise above I'd certainly get far more letters. I've only myself to blame.

Can't see the wood for the trees

Next year, when I blithely say I'll make all my Christmas cards, somebody please remember and shoot me. 60-odd later, I've had enough of folksy-Scandi style and have progressed to Habitat-chic. I reckon that at my hourly rate, each card is costing me about a fiver...

If you wanna be the best, wo-oah procrastination's what you need...

I know I'm supposed to be writing Christmas cards, but I've got a classic case of procrastination, so I've been fiddling about on eBay, reading blogs and doing 101 other things in a desperate attempt to make Christmas go away. Don't get me wrong, I love the whole Christmas thang (especially buying presents for M), but it's a pain in the arse to organise.

So I'm proposing a whole new schedule for Christmas 2007, in a bid to avoid all last-minute card-writing, present-buying and mince-pie-making.

January: buy Christmas cards/presents in sales
February-July: write 10 Christmas cards per month, gazing into crystal ball to predict (a) degree of pennilessness (b) progress of diy (c) behaviour of offspring/cat/husband
August: wrap presents
September: make mincemeat/mince pies
October: eat mince pies
November: eat mince pies
December: eat mince pies

By my reckoning that gives at least three months of pastry ingestion, which can't be bad at all.

Seasons greetings

Not content with attempting to do the domestic goddess-thingy food-wise, I've taken it upon myself to make some Christmas cards. It's December 4, and I've just begun. No pressure, then.

Above, you'll see a sneak preview of this year's card. As the design afficionados among you will obviously guess, it's a Scandinavian theme (which may have something to do with the fact that the wrapping paper I'm using came from IKEA last year) using the traditional four-year-old's drawing of a Christmas tree that seems to be my default setting. I expect the orders to come rolling in at any moment...

Actually, it's rather satisfying cutting and sticking, and takes me back to being about six and making scrapbooks on that weird coloured paper. Did anyone else save sweet wrappers and cut pictures out of the Mothercare catalogue, or was that just me?