I've worked hard to get to this point.
I'm supposed to read a poem or two at Martin's music thingy tomorrow evening -- so I worked on that in bed, a bit. Haven't really been too engaged with poetry lately, but I don't want to bore myself with the same old stuff I've read before. I'm also equally bothered by what in the world I'm going to wear, because if I don't think about this now there won't be time to deal with it tomorrow. Did I mention the stacks of laundry?
No, I probably didn't.
In the meantime I must also begin the financial juggle (jungle?) that is December. First there's Saint Nicholas, our adopted holiday: basically the girls get chocolate in their shoes tomorrow morning. It's been made clear to them that all their little Belgian friends don't get Father Christmas* (*aka Santa), so St Nick and Pere Noel have sorted us hybrids out between them.
In other words, don't expect presents tomorrow....
Then there's the run-up to Christmas. It will be, as usual, a check-kite. Except we don't have checks here, we have overdrafts. What excitement! Would Xmas be nearly as thrilling for us parents if we weren't skidding along on the seat of our financial pants*? (*aka trousers) No, I don't think so either! Ho ho ho -- I'm off to buy chocolate.