Mix the punch, drag out the Dickens

While eating my breakfast this morning, I read a letter from the mother. She keeps this up weekly, despite me having been an atrocious return correspondent for the past year, which is lovely of her.

Anyway, she appears to have been eating mince pies, trundling round stately homes ogling Christmas decorations, going on lovely frosty walks and flash-mobbing shopping centres with carols.

Frankly, I'm jealous. I have been working, organising rapper things, and generally trying to keep on top of ordinary life. It is not even beginning to feel a little bit like Christmas.

In an attempt to fabricate some Christmas cheer, I invite you to join in:

( The Christmas Tradition Exchange )