I am trying to blog every day at the moment. I am doing this in the crazed belief that, like vitamins and smiling even when I don’t want to, it is good for me.
Please try and ignore this evening’s ramblings. It is gone ten o’clock and I am only awake because I am expecting an Ocado order. It took me three attempts to type the first ‘am’ in this blog post and four to type the second. It is a terrible couple of opening sentences, but I am so proud I got those ‘am’s right I am not going to delete them.
My news today:
Gravel has appeared in my garden. Jason rang me four times worrying about the colour of it, but as I was engrossed in battling mince pies and watching Tallulah in her nativity play I didn’t have time to answer him.
It turns out the colour is fine.
Which is a relief, as we finally had the conversation about it after five tonnes went into the garden. Only another five to go, I believe.
I got to school this morning to find that my nativity refreshments helper was ill with a migraine (much sympathy) but that this left only me manning the stall and I also had to see my child perform. Then I realised nothing was set up, none of my year six helpers could help as they were performing, and I’d lost the mince pies.
I ran into the staff room like a deranged chicken, put my head in the cupboard, did a small scream, and then calmed down sufficiently to ask people for help. It came in spades. People leapt to my aid, and the show went on with refreshments, mince pies, helpers and me being able to see Tallulah do her thang.
A beautiful thang it was too.
The show was fab. They do a promenade performance every year and it is generally jolly good indeed. This was the best in all the years I have seen it.
The rest of the day was taken up with trying to ensure that our carol singing outside the local Co-op this evening did not go spectacularly wrong.
It did not go spectacularly wrong although there were a worryingly sparse few moments to begin with.
At the eleventh hour, the school cavalry appeared over the hill, saving Nicki and I from forcing Tallulah to sing ninety nine songs on her own accompanied by three boys and Tilly as backing singers who think they are in a band called ‘Giant Squid’, and us, on the teaspoons we ‘borrowed’ from the Church for the Christmas fair and still haven’t given back.
We had an ace time with the children, their families, some friends and teachers. We even managed to woo some lovely people who had only come to shop, but ending up staying and helping us out, which was wonderful. We sang, in the cold and the damp for an entire hour. We sang until our voices were hoarse. We sang The Twelve Days of Christmas with immense bravado and a great deal of ‘fiivve gooollld riings.’ We failed to sing ‘All I Want for Christmas is You’ quite spectacularly, dissolving into fits of giggles on the way, and generally hammed it up for all it was worth.
The shoppers were extremely kind to us, and even the ones who didn’t donate any money gave us smiles and didn’t heckle us.
Afterwards, as Nicki and I were queueing in the chip shop with the children, we agreed that much to our utter amazement we had had a total blast. Neither of us had particularly wanted to do this event, but we did want to a) build good community relations and b) earn a few more pounds to push up our already impressive Christmas total, so we grudgingly accepted the challenge. The challenge that was way outside either of our comfort zones.
It just shows you that you don’t have to bungee jump off of the Golden Gate bridge to get your adrenalin kicks. You just need to go and sing The Twelve Days of Christmas outside your local Co-op and earn £92 for your school in the process.
For a woman who hates Christmas I am being tremendously festive this year, aren’t I?