The season of goodwill approaches ever closer. Since we've had kids, I enjoy it more, the whole thing wasn't really my bag previously. As a parent, I now have the concerns of the ludicrous commercialisation of the whole event. It's pointless to address that in any more detail other than to say it's crazy, and anyone with half a brain cell should agree. A & I have tried to get C to understand more of the true meaning of Christmas and to make him understand that Santa and the presents are a pleasant side issue to celebrating the birth of Christ. I personally have no faith, but I respect the A does. I have no problem with teaching the kids about the birth of Christ as I look upon it as a historical fact rather than from a religious point of view. Still. I am sure that baby Jesus will soon be forgotton as they turn into whirling dervishes surrounded by mountains of carefully selected and soon redundant wrapping paper.
On one hand I enjoy the best part of two weeks at home, with A & the kids, and visits to and from other family, but from a practical point of view it makes me shudder. Why does the entire country grind to a halt for the best part of two weeks for a period that has three bank holidays ? Crazy. It's not by choice that we are also forced to shutdown. All of our main suppliers are closed, as are the majority of our clients. Two weeks with no deals makes for lean times for a small business.
Ho bloody ho ho.

Don't seem to be writing much except for Friday afternoons as the week begins to wind down. Its 4.30 and to be honest, I would've departed for a swift jar by now if I didn't have to make a call at 4.45. I've been trying to get this guy all day and his secretary tells me that he will be fee to take my call then. Lucky me.
I must make an effort to take C swimming tomorrow. The little swine always says he wants to, and then turns into a big girls blouse when we get to the pool. I know he's only three, but he's got to start to realise how much he's going to get out of it. He loved swimming in the lakes in Italy in the summer, he could control his depth. He panics if he can't touch the bottom of a pool, and try as I do, I can't seem to help him conquer that fear. Back to the drawing board once again. We haven't been for a while so its suck it and see time.
Got D staying for a few nights as he's back from the Canaries for a weeks work in Blighty. The daft twat got a 10 pm flight into Bristol, so muggins will be driving down an unusually clear M5 on Saturday night and doubtless have a hangover on Sunday after we've caned a few bottles of red on getting back. The things I do for my kiddie less chums. Contemplating sticking him in J's room for the night, which will soon wipe the smile off his tan !