It's coming...

Well, Happy Advent! Doesn't it all come round quickly? Not that the grandchildren think so; but give them 60 years and they will. Still, it's a lovely time of year, made lovelier by this box of Advent presents that Daughter 2 - having nothing to do but look after a baby who doesn't sleep much, and work four days a week in a responsible job - kindly made up for us. So sweet!

This was the first present. Very cute!

We went for a hike with our walking friends on Saturday. We plodded through a slightly rainy and distinctly muddy East Lothian, passing these very typical cottages...

... and coming into Hailes Castle. This is a 13th and 14th century building - somewhat dilapidated these days. Most of it is roofless but the underneath bit - the kitchen? - is accessible and we went in there for mince pies and mulled wine.

And then the rain stopped and we walked on to the Linton Hotel for a very nice Christmas meal. When we left and were waiting at the bus stop to return to Edinburgh, all the lights in East Linton suddenly went out! It would have been very dark indeed if we hadn't waved our phone torches around, and luckily the bus did see us, and stopped.

Yesterday we drove over the bridge to go and see Son, Daughter-in-Law and The Unbloggable Toddler.

This is the view from their garden - very nice but sadly not at all near us. However, TUT really seems to recognise us now and has incorporated us into her entourage. She's a lovely little blonde person, very agile and chatty. I must remember not to get too discouraged when her little sibling (due in May) doesn't want anything to do with us. I'll try to be patient and hope that he/she too will get to know us in time.

We went to a playpark. Here are Son and TUT on the flying fox. It was a happy day.

And today I've posted my overseas Christmas cards. It's a start.

Advent

This year Daughter 2 once again sent us a parcel full of 24 little gifts for Advent. So kind.

For example... These were specifically for Mr Life and me.

But on Fridays, when the children are here from lunchtime onwards, her parcels are really for them. For example, last Friday's gift contained decorate-them-yourself penguin biscuits. One penguin somehow turned out to be beakless; we don't think the beak got eaten mid-assembly but anyway it had to have a substitute, a chocolate snowball.

Today's gift was a little polar bear ornament. Grandson cuddles two toy polar bears in bed so this one went home with him to join them.

There's lots still to do, but at least the tree's up.

So...

The penultimate Advent gift. Thank you, Daughter 2. I must find something to erase.

Daughter 1, husband and children are now down in England on the way to visit his folks; Daughter 2 is with her husband's folks, also in England; Son is at his house, where he'll celebrate Christmas with his wife's family. So our house is quiet and tidy and will remain so for several days. Mind you, I plan to cut out lots of strips and little squares of material tomorrow, so that'll mess up the kitchen, aka my sewing room, more than somewhat.

I'll miss the offspring of course, but Christmas Day is only a day and we'll be fine. In a way, I'm missing my parents more: the children will be back before or at least at New Year and my parents definitely will not. I suppose that being temporarily childless reminds me of the early days of our marriage. But then, Mum and Dad were only up the road - and I felt obliged to keep in touch with them - though of course I also wanted to do so. Now, for a few days, we have absolutely no obligations, which feels extremely weird but perhaps faintly exciting.

Maybe we'll... oh, I don't know... go for a walk and have a coffee somewhere. You think?

Unwrapping. And lifting.

Just in case you've been on tenterhooks... oh, you haven't?... to see what other wonders Daughter 2 has found for Advent gifts, here are the most recent ones.

Chocolate sprouts. Always a pleasure to receive.

A wee wind-up torch keyring. Grandson was very intrigued by this.

Two fudge bars. Yes, I realise that this is only one. Now, it's none.

More healthful chocolate sprouts.

And, today, an assemble-it-yourself set of little gnomes. We haven't yet done the assembly.

It's been a busy little while: Daughter 2 was home for a few days, Son and Daughter-in-Law came down from their northern fastness (well, house) to visit and of course Daughter 1, Son-in-Law 1 and the grandchildren were around too. So that was nice.

Son demonstrated his upper body strength... .

Daughter 2 took this picture so I'm not quite sure why Granddaughter was looking over the hedge into the neighbours' garden.

 

Son carried Grandson like this for the second half of our walk. Grandson's perfectly capable of walking, but obviously sitting on his uncle like a king on his throne is more relaxing. For him.

Patterns

Advent gifts, day 15: useful notebooks. Fortunately Grandson wasn't here; he prefers edible presents. But these are lovely!

And this evening I felt the need to cheer myself up, so I started cutting out a new quilt, this time for Son and Daughter-in-Law. Unlike those who can produce such a thing in a matter of days, I predict that I might be finished around summer time. All I've done so far is to cut out twenty-two 5-inch squares, so there's a long way to go. But it's nice to handle pretty material. At the moment I've got cats, generic birds, owls, dragonflies, butterflies, mice, bees and toadstools... or possibly mushrooms. None of these is exactly naturalistic.

I may (will) have to buy some plain fabric but otherwise will be using, and thus (slightly) reducing, my stash. So that's good.  I feel better already.

Notes

These were delicious chocolate truffles yesterday, thank you, Daughter 2.  There's one left over which has been promised to Grandson next time he's here. I wonder if he'll remember? (That's a rhetorical question.)

 

We just ate these ourselves today, since the grandchildren didn't visit. Yum.

 

Grandson likes to sit at the piano, bashing away experimentally. I wish I could play well enough to fascinate him with my brilliance and thus, possibly, inspire him to play an actual tune. (Mind you, my father could play brilliantly and this didn't inspire me other than in an I-wish-I-could-play-without-bothering-to-learn-and-practise way.)

Yesterday, however, he drew these notes. I was quite surprised; my music is open on the music stand bit of the piano (does this have a name?) but we'd never discussed it. Granted, they're not on a stave; but they are recognisable notes. He then proceeded to sing us the song that he said it represented: this was meant to be a carol, I suppose, which began "Baby Jesus didn't fall down" and continued for a while. He is a hoot.

The notes reminded me of my dad. Because he was very musical, people tended to send him birthday cards with musical notes on them, and because he was also a bit - hmm, well - critical, it would irritate him if they were just random notes, as above, rather than a piece of accurate musical notation. Card manufacturers, are you listening?

Getting there...

The tree: before.

The tree: after. I expect that if I put this much effort into my own appearance, I too could look startlingly better. Or at least shinier.

And twinklier.

Mr and Mrs Elf are mildly impressed by our efforts.

I've had this glass Christmas tree box for... thirty years? Forty? It looks better without the flash from my camera.

Today's Advent present: some very useful hair clasps for Granddaughter. She has a tendency to remove her clasps and lose them, so now I can replace them, thus keeping her hair out of her eyes. She doesn't like her hair being in her eyes but hasn't yet attained the age of complete understanding of cause and effect. (Which of us has?) It's just as well that Grandson wasn't here to open the parcel. I don't think he would have been as impressed as he is with the comestible gifts.

Luminous night of the gingerbread men

Advent presents: day 10. Grandson looked at them covetously and indicated that he'd like to eat one. We agreed that he could, as long as he ate his tea (ie evening meal) first. But then we both forgot. But I'll keep it for him. He'll be back tomorrow.

Thanks to Mrs Slapthing (who are you?) for your comforting (I think) words about "Luminous Night of the Soul". I do not myself think it's gorgeous, though will admit that it has some quite nice bits. But it's very repetitive (only, you know, slightly different each time just to make it more difficult) and we spend a lot of time on the dreary bits, which of course have to be right, and beautifully sung, because they're so misty and unforgiving.

I don't want to sing something with some quite nice bits. I want to sing big choral things with passages that make the heart leap and sing. The Missa Solemnis! Brahms' German Mass! The St Matthew Passion!

Perhaps if I'd come across it as a listener, I would be less prejudiced against it. But my first introduction was to the beginning: "Looooooooooong beeeeeeeeeee fooooooooore" - if you're a first soprano. Lots of the same note, which of course is not as easy to sing as you might think. Even the words are repetitive.

And we're singing two of his pieces! And another at my other choir! Overkill!

Anyway. I might change my mind, I suppose. Let's hope.

I've just YouTubed it and come across the Central Washington University Choir singing it (I'm listening to it now) with the piano played by a little chap who looked vaguely familiar, and have now realised that it's Ola himself. The cello bit at the very start is lovely, I'll admit. (And all the commenters agree with you, Mrs S. I refrained from a dissenting comment.) But the rest - on and on - what's he saying about the luminous night of the soul, anyway? Nothing.

Toffeeapple, I do (usually) love singing in a choir. I don't mind repetition of exciting stuff and it's so wonderful to hear and to be part of a big sound.

Deep sigh

Advent gifts day 9.

I've just come back from choir, where we're singing two pieces by Ola Gjeilo: "The Luminous Night of the Soul" and "Sunrise Mass". I keep hoping that they might grow on me but - nope, not so far. They manage to combine a) being quite difficult to sing even fairly well; b) sounding as if they would be quite easy (lots of repeated notes); and c) being extremely boring to rehearse. To make matters worse, we're singing his "Serenity" at my other choir. At least "Serenity" is mercifully short: over in six wafty minutes. Tonight's offerings comprise our whole programme. Gah.

I would just drop out for this year except that I'm the soprano representative - which basically involves taking the register, not a skilled task except that I'm the only one who knows all the sopranos' names (because of keeping the register). Also, it would seem a bit feeble. However, I'm strongly tempted. An weekly hour and three-quarters of watching the clock while we drone on; not my idea of fun.

He's an up-and-coming young composer so I suppose I must be wrong in my estimation of his music. But give me a bit of Mozart or Handel any day!

(I've just noticed that I put the apostrophe in the wrong place in sopranos'!! This indicates my level of overwroughtness! I have now corrected it. Goodness gracious me. I blame Ola Gjeilo, without a doubt.)

Day 7 of Advent, chocolate and other matters

I'm kind of hiding from the fact that it's coming up for Christmas and I should perhaps do a bit more to prepare for this. Tomorrow. Tomorrow I'll think seriously about it. Tomorrow I'll make the Christmas cakes. Yes, I know they're supposed to be made months in advance but I never do and it never seems to make any difference. I might also write some letters and cards. I will also think about presents.

In fact, I do need to be a bit more organised about presents since none of the offspring will be here... though in fact that maybe means I can be a bit less organised, since none of them will be here... and we might just do a post-Christmas Christmas.

We've mainly given Son and Daughter-in-Law their presents already, mind you, since we won't see them at Christmas and are unlikely to see them between now and then. Apart from anything else, the road bridge over the River Forth, which is between them and us, has developed faults and is to be closed till next year (and who knows when next year?) This is causing HUGE disruption for people who live on one side and work on the other, as well as for the distribution of goods and for people who want to visit friends and family. There are other bridges but they're considerably further upstream.

There has been, as we say in Scotland, a tremendous stooshie about this. The SNP (Scottish Nationalist Party, who're in charge) is said to have been cost-cutting and ignoring the reports of stress on the metalwork of the bridge.

One certainly wouldn't like to be plunged into the icy waters far beneath.

When I was a girl, there was no road bridge, only a rail bridge and a small car ferry. Thus people didn't make that journey much by car. Once the bridge was built, of course far more people used it than had been expected and thus it's now wearing out. They're building another one but it's not nearly finished yet. It's all interesting and - though not so much for us - somewhat trying.

Sticky markers and a fiendish plot

 

Today's Advent packet: sticky page markers. There was also an orange set but Grandson took them home with him. He'd never seen any before and plans to use them to mark the chapter in his bedtime story book.

 

 

We went on a bus today. He loves bus travel and observes everything with much seriousness. The other day he pointed out that with some traffic lights, even when a colour isn't lit up, you can still see what the colour of the glass is; whereas with others, the glass appears completely black when not lit. Moreover, with the former kind, the glass of the green light looks dark blue.

 

"Why, Granny?" Ummm... . I had to admit that I'd never noticed. Traffic lights are not my specialist subject.

 

Grandson [to his dad]: I wonder if I could make a potion to make my sister invisible?
His dad: Hmm. Well, there aren't really any such things as invisibility potions.
[Pause.]
Grandson: Maybe we could just pile some things up in front of her?

(To put this in context, we'd been reading a book which featured invisibility potions and an annoying little sister... .)

The 4th

Today's Advent gift - not yet consumed, and a certain small person had his eye on one of them so I might keep mine for him. On the other hand, we do want him to retain his teeth so maybe I should just, callously, eat it.

Some bloggers and Facebook friends are posting pictures of Christmas trees and decorations. I can never get in the mood for decorating till much nearer the date. And the current howling wind and pelting rain don't feel particularly festive.

Christmas 2012

 

We sang carols last night, my niece at the piano.

 

We tried to put a paper hat on Grandson but he took it off.

He's still a very smiley boy.

The reindeer herd is complete.

Son-in-Law 1's very nice brother asked his very nice girlfriend to marry him and she accepted. How excellent! We saw them and the ring on Skype. Congratulations, B and S!

I hope you all had a lovely day too.

Christmas Eve...

Happy Christmas for tomorrow, everyone!

The last two presents: hers to us: a little stollen and a final reindeer.

Us to her: a very mature piece of literature.

Must go and wrap Mr Life's present... .

Family

A large chocolate coin - not yet eaten - and another tree on the advent calendar.

 A bookmark for her. So adult.

We played "Articulate".

Here are the offspring (including Volume 2) plus Daughter-in-Law.

Look at those eyelashes.

He didn't think he should wear a hat indoors.

"If you go on playing with your phone," I said to my nephew, "I'll put you in my blog." So he hid it.

Later we got out all my mum's treasures - jewellery and trinkets and my dad's medals and her dad's medals and the box that my granny's father made for her and so on - and the children all chose various mementoes. It was sad but lovely.

Eleven and a half people use a lot of plates and cups in the course of a day.