Six days until Grant is home for the holidays. Twelve days until school breaks up. Nineteen sleeps until Christmas. We have stepped back into those warm summer days and long summer nights filled with all the excitement and joy and wonder that Christmas brings.
It is the first year I have been organised (and energised) enough to pull together an advent calendar of sorts. My baby is old enough now to join in the excitement, and strip the tree of its ornaments as quickly as we can hang them. And is is likely the last year our first born will be suspending his disbelief in the hope that the big man in red will climb down the chimney bringing him the present of his dreams.
The boys pulled the first card from its sleeve on Monday morning, had written their letters to Santa before breakfast, and posted them on the way to school while the council workers hung the Christmas decorations on the main street of town. It is a bit of a mismash of ideas and inspiration gleaned from here and there, and a celebration of all that we love about this time of year. I stamped activities on the back of shipping tags which the boys then decorated.
We have eaten bowls of cherries, made angels from beads and crepe paper and glitter, listened to Bing Crosby and Frank Sinatra crooning classics of Christmas' past and soaked up the summer sun while jumping over salty ocean waves.
Tonight the boys will camp in the garden, frogs croaking in the ferns beneath our balcony. There are no more presents to buy or errands to run. Just moments to enjoy together. And our first family Christmas in the city since we moved south four years ago to look forward to. Two weeks to go! Which will leave three cards for our dear friends from Fremantle to uncover when we swap houses for the week. We can't wait...