In Namesti Miru, that is. Caroline and her babysitter walked over last night, after it got dark at 4:30, and came home bearing gingerbread Mikulas (St. Nick) cookies. Caroline says the tree goes up and up and doesn't stop and people are already singing.
She is too, mostly her own improvisations about Santa Claus coming our way. I'm teaching her more traditional Christmas carols out of a big piano book I ordered from the States for Christmas. I've been playing my way through it on the weekends, working up its easy pieces into something I wouldn't mind playing for friends, or at least our family.
As December gets closer and my work gets busier I find myself cramming Christmas pleasures into all the moments of peace I can grab. When I'm home, Caroline and Will have a surfeit of mandarin slices to choose from (for the smell of a just snapped open orange). C and I spend my free Saturdays drawing designs for cards we'll probably send in January. It's early still, and Will thinks I'll be tired of Christmas by the time it arrives, but I know that by the beginning of December I'll be working until midnight, weekends too, and will have hardly a moment to spend with Caroline enjoying ourselves, building her Christmas memories.
2 hours ago