Christmas

I think it must be the time of year but I'm actually getting a wee bit homesick. I even miss the cold. Don't get me wrong, I'm happy here. I found myself sitting on our veranda with my sewing (I'm old before my time, I know) listening to the constant whine of the cicadas outside and watching my Other Half dig a vegetable patch near the chicken coop and I was completely and utterly happy. But it is coming up to not only Christmas but my birthday too. Christmas here, in the heat, is just not the same as Christmas at home and this year, it will be again at my mother's house with most of my family there (obviously not me or my sister) and I miss it. I miss them. Welsherella also pulled at the heartstrings a bit with her recent post about the Christmas tree in Leeds City Square and the German market which I adored wandering round wrapped up in my coat, black velvet hat and brightly coloured scarf after work with a mug of gluhwein. There's no feeling quite like being wrapped up in my long skirt, thick tights and a big jumper sitting on the floor leaning against the sofa next to the fire in the living room at home. Next year, come hell or high water (or, in this country, bushfires and cyclones, it amounts to the same thing) I will be home for Christmas.