My calendar says December 23rd or 23 December as it's called here. Really. It does. Except that it doesn't feel like December at all.
Sure, the tree is up and the Christmas carols are playing, but goodness, I feel like I'm stuck in July. I guess that's what happens when you move to Singapore.
For the very first time ever, we didn't get a real tree. And we decided that if we going to go fake, that we'd go reeaaally fake. Andrew calls it the reverse Christmas tree. And we love it. White tree, green garland. Friends say, "Oh, you must really miss the snow!"
And we do. I miss being cold. Strange I know. But it's true.
But here, the snow shows up only on the windows with palm trees peeking through the background.
Or in the jam jars turned candle holders. They smell like Christmas. So good. A sweet gift from my kids. I've caught them smelling the candles over the last few days. The smells remind us of home.
Before we left, we purged, paired down and brought very little with us. But some favourite Christmas decorations did make it across the ocean. And thankfully all in one piece.
There's not much room in this tiny place for big Christmas displays. Just enough to spread a little Christmas here and there.
No fireplace for stockings, but stockings none the less. Including one for little Sneakers of course.
The presents are wrapped. Mincemeat tarts baked. Tomorrow we pick up the turkey and make some yummy cookies. Just in time for Christmas.
