No regrets but a little sense of melancholy tells me to dream bigger next year, to try harder at what comes more easily. This last few months has felt like an uphill struggle, trying to do what doesn't come easily for reasons that don't altogether make much sense. Dream bigger. Mediocreness is suffocating, it doesn't allow space to breathe, it leaves a sense of something being missing. I don't want that anymore, it's enough! red and white stripy candy canes, the ones that I pretend to buy for the children. To wait as long as possible under the blankets and then head to the cold kitchen to make real coffee, lots and lots of real coffee for my hubby and I. It's enough to find a forest that smells of pines to take a walk in, to make up for the fake tree in our house. To find a pub on the way back from our forest walk, one with a real fire that we can sit by, to make up for the lack of a log fire in our home. To finally get around to teaching my eldest boy to make mix tapes this christmas, 2015 has got to be the year of the Acquaye-Tonge's mix tape collection. To just be without a schedule or timetable or places to be at set times. To be able to just pop out to the cinema on a whim, to stay in pyjamas all day and finish all those books that I've half read.To play countless games of mankala (or owari where I'm from) and all those promised games of monopoly and cluedo and scrabble, in tribute to christmas day tradition when Grandma Peppermint was still alive.
It's enough to want the simpler of things that we can all so easily be robbed of because of busyness and overspending and duty and overcommitting and guilt trips and losing sight of the real prize, all getting in the way. The four of us, in pyjamas all day long, good food and good coffee and music, good music. It's enough. Merry Christmas. That's all folks!
|Happy memories from Christmas's past!|