My Mum put up her Christmas tree last night. It is beautiful and totally her, meaning ultra chic. Once it was up, I realized it was the 4th December and not only had I not rung my Grandmother to wish her a happy birthday but it was 21 days until Christmas.
It doesn’t feel like Christmas to me.
Five Christmases in London mean I’m used to it being dark and grey with a light dusting of snow. It means going Christmas shopping on Oxford Street with hats, gloves and scarves. It means real Christmas trees with twinkly lights and red Starbucks cups with Hot Chocolate inside.
Don’t get me wrong, I’m not doing a Scrooge here but I just wish I felt a bit more “Christmassy”.