After some wasted trips and just a little bit of panicking, I found our Christmas tree which means that the festivities can begin. We always put on the ‘Best Christmas Songs Ever’ CD while we decorate it which drives Mr. Tialys mad but, it must be done. It’s that time of year when good taste and any attempts at minimalism go completely out of the window – in our house anyway – and, after a preliminary dust and vacuum, I can use the excuse that ‘I can’t get to things’ , to forget about anything too rigorous in the housework department for a week.
Time for light up santas..
Time to be helped up to the highest heights by your boyfriend….
……or your dad.
Time to dress up the animals again. The real ones…..
………and the not so real.
Now I’ve really got to find a turkey in the next few days. Not so easy here in France and, when you do find them, they are only the size of a large chicken. This is because the French don’t seem to understand that, being British, we need to buy a huge turkey and then eat it in various manifestations for a week afterward…….and then make stock. That’s not weird is it?