Authors, Writers, Publishers, and Book Readers
So here I am, guys, with only three days to go before I head back to the UK for Christmas. A time of year that like many of you I, too, have always loved; after all, when else do we get to spend so much time with family and friends, enjoy lots of partying and pressies and probably over indulge a bit too much as well? And with the Christmas CD constantly on the go, me and mine certainly make the most of it... Not that I get the chance to join in with any of the sing alongs, I should point out; for some reason people don't tend to like it when their ears start to bleed.
Oh yes, the holiday season is a time of excitment and for me such anticipation is usually growing to almost fever pitch by now. However, this year instead of feeling the thrill, I'm reluctant to say that, rather, I'm feeling a sense of trepidation...
You see, not only is this is my first Christmas as a bone fide, wedding ring on the finger, Mother-in-law, it's the first Christmas where I'm not the one responsible for the whole of the organising. Not that that's really a problem, of course, it will be nice to be able to relax a little and let someone else stuff the turkey; no, as we''re off to our son's, the issue lies more in the fact that my daughter-in-law has a dislike of soft furnishings; or to be more specific, she doesn't like woven wool floor coverings.
Not that that's particularly a reason to be nervous in itself, I realise - she is, after all, a lovely girl in every other sense of the word. I just can't forget the time when she and my son were setting up home and I suggested a lovely rug would look nice in the lounge. My sentiment that such things are what turn a house into a home obviously being something she didn't agree with. Then again, I suppose this was quite understandable considering at that point they didn't even have their own bed to sleep in, but still, it's made me wonder if she'll think I'm talking rubbish on lots of other matters, too - a real concern when they've got to put up with me for eleven days. And although I'm probably over analyising, the last thing I want is for her to get sick of me and my funny ideas (of which I'm told I have many) with my son caught up somewhere in the middle... but I don't want everyone to be on their polite guard all of the time either...
Although to be fair, I do appreciate she's probably feeling as nervous as I am about the whole thing. After all, as titles go 'Mother-in-law' doesn't always conjure up the best of images, now, does it? I just have to hope that come the New Year we can all say we've had the absolute best of times together - even if the living room still doesn't, indeed, have a rug.
Merry Christmas, everyone x