Winter solstice and Nativity

'Tis the male guardian's favourite day of the winter season, for the winter solstice is the shortest day and hereafter the days do lengthen, minute by minute. We are, it has to be said, chalk and cheese with regards to the weather, for I do so enjoy winter nights, with the log burner alight, warm garments and hunkering down, whereas the male guardian likes nothing better than blazing sunshine and basking in the heat of the sun, much like a lizard (only in relation to the heat, you understand). Opposites attract they do say and there must be some truth in the maxim as we have celebrated our 35th Anniversary this very year.

I have enjoyed this evening, whilst the male guardian is once more at toil, with festive music in the background, a crackling fire and an evening of gift wrapping in preparation for the festivities. Added to these simple pleasures is a good quality scented candle to fill the air with evocatively festive aromas. Oh, how I do so love a quality scented candle, dear souls.  I like to take time to consider how to decorate a festive gift in my own inimitable style. I am fond of  simple colour schemes that denote the season in which we celebrate Christmas, therefore natural greenery more often than not features, along with dashes of red to embellish. Such delightful fun, my dears. 

Last evening the male guardian and I were most delighted to be visited by some of our family. During the visit we were able to view the children's Nativity on an electrical device -  well, pon my soul, dear friends, how charming it all looked with all the children participating. There were even some delightful birds represented, and so well portrayed alongside Mary, Joseph and baby Jesus. 
I do remember the importance of the Nativity play from my own childhood. My dear twin sister was always the more extrovert and was Mary, the much coveted part for many a young lady. I, myself, was not so keen as to be centre stage, however, was one year cast as the Angel Gabriel on account of my rather bright and plentiful supply of fiery red hair topped off with a rather becoming gold tinsel halo hovering above my head fashioned from a wire coat hanger, a rather spangly golden dress and, importantly, a pair of large angel wings fashioned from more wire and white stockings, stretched over the wire and coated in glitter that left a glittering trail up the aisle of the local church and in to the pulpit where I perched upon a wooden box during the performance in all my golden glittery splendour for all to see. What five year old young lady would not be tempted by such a glorious ensemble (and it has to be said, a somewhat forthright, bossy twin sister who told me I had to accept the part for fear of jeopardising her own coveted role - dear sister, I do so hope you remember this little bit of "persuasion" as well as I do).
I do not know what was more attractive, the clash of gold and glitter next to my orange hair or the bright puce shade of my face as realisation dawned as to the sheer number of eyes upon us during the performance; ne'er again was it repeated, dear souls, ne'er again.