Oh. Christmas tree...

With the painting completed in advance of the children back round with me this evening, I was free to potter about doing some other long-standing jobs.

This included moving a shelf in The Eldest’s room, which necessitated a judicious amount of swearing, a butt load of filler to replace the crater(s) that I inadvertently made in the crap Victorian walls and a self-congratulatory pat on the back for not taking the house down with my handyman efforts. Now I am able to apply paint to a wall and move a shelf, I am considering investing in knee pads, one of those tool belt thingies and a pencil to put behind my ear for those times when I need to write on a wall or complete an emergency crossword.

My reward for doing these chores was to crash out on the sofa and enjoy the sounds emanating from an early Christmas present of a new soundbar, I’d gifted myself. Star Wars: Rogue One never sounded so blummin’ amazing. So good in fact, that I had a light nap to get over the excitement of it all.

Before long the wee ones were due collection and we wandered back home, excited at the prospect of decorating the tree. Their decorating style is that of a cannon full to bursting with baubles, decorations and other paraphernalia being blasted at said tree. If it sticks, it stays. 

This leaves a dazzling array of sparkle, including in one area, glittering headphones (seriously) overlapping with baubles and lynched fairies with eerily satisfied smiles on their faces. 

It’s a sight to behold and one which I sadly failed to capture from my position ‘neath the tree.