Celebrating my way. 3rd Advent Sunday

Are you sitting comfortably?

Then I'll begin...

And thank you to

Ms Misantropia

for inviting us to share

our Winter celebrations. 

(Whenever I say 'Christmas' 

feel free to insert the 

Winter Festival

 of your choice.)

Part of what makes Christmas special

is the repetition of customs and traditions

that inspire feelings of nostalgia and pleasure,

building on happy memories of previous years.

When we talk about childhood Christmases

we tumble the best bits together,

and good things get carried forward

to become part of every Christmas.

One year, not long after we'd married,

Hubby asked me to read aloud to him.

Understand, dear souls,

I stammer. 

No one had ever asked me 

to read aloud to them before.

He wanted me to read him

A Christmas Carol.

Not us. Some couple by Renoir.

So I did.

Tucked up together on the sofa,

wrapped in a blanket and 

drinking steaming hot tea,

I read the whole thing.

I know him; Marley's ghost!

It took three readings

to complete the story,

and its transformative tale

of a man's redemption.

More ghosts.

I found I loved reading it,

and he enjoyed being read to,

so now it's part of every Christmas.

 We set aside evenings for it,

with cookies and cocoa,

and I have to have a hanky

because I get all choked up.

  He: Are you all right, my dear?  She: No! Tiny Tim just died!

It's a simple thing to do.

It costs nothing and

you can find the book for free on-line.

(Although we are considering buying a nice version

as my old paperback copy is getting very battered.)

Maybe one with Arthur Rackham's wonderful illustrations?

There's a wonderful intimacy

in reading aloud;

it's a shared experience

that's unlike anything else.

Also not us.  Paolo e Francesca

I look forward to it every year.

Not Krampus

If you want to try it

I'd set aside three evenings.

The first for Marley's visit

The second for Christmas Past 

and Christmas Present.

And the last for 

Christmas Yet To Come. 

and Christmas morning.

Provide nibbles,

light lots of candles,

and enjoy the role

of the Storyteller.

Links to making your own Marley Door Knocker can be found here.

To share in other celebrations,

hop over to Ms Misantropia's Blog

to join in

Celebrating the Holidays My Way

Horny Hump Day

Blimey, it's cold!

Better get some hot action going, then!

Welcome to 

Horny Hump Day!

These are the further adventures

of the foul-mouthed Gretina the Skivvy.

Foul-mouthed she may be, but she is also bewilderingly innocent and horribly prudish.

Alone with a young man for the first time, she panics about what will happen.

Gretina wasn't sure what to expect, but Tilly Squint had assured her, with much giggling and gasps of horror, that men turned into beasts, that they ripped away all your clothing and threw you down on your back with your legs stuck up in the air, like rabbit-ears. Tilly had been vague on the details as to what happened next, but that it was terrible, that you were used; that was the word, used!  Tilly had explained that afterwards there was mess and blood, and then you had a baby, in agony. 

Hop on over to

Horny Hump Day

and join in the party.

Seven Minutes of Story

I write, because I love story.

I love the compulsion of the narrative 

and believe in the redemptive powers of the tale.

Heavy, right?

Ok, how about this?

If you have seven minutes to spare,

watch this.

And when it's done,

even though the story is complete,

you'll want to know more.

You'll want to know

WHAT HAPPENS NEXT?

It was made as a showcase

for a game developer's graphics.

So, there isn't any more.

You want more,

 you'll have to add story yourself.

Dream Destination

Welcome to the

Dream Destination 

blog hop

courtesy of

Lexa Cain

and

Julie Flanders.

Please fasten your seatbelt,

and return your stewardess to the upright position.

Where would I go

if I could go anywhere?

 Good question. 

I'm limiting the answers to

real places

because most of you are writers

and frankly, as writers

we can go ANYWHERE

 while still sat behind our keyboard.

And have tea with a faun

when we get there.

Look.

It's like this.

I'm English and
I've lived most of my life near castles.

Lindisfarne

Big, beautiful castles.

Bamburgh

Like this.  

Bodiam

They are everywhere.

Norham

Some of them are lived in.

Warwick

Some of them are still lived in 

by the family who built them.

Alnwick

 I love castles.

Bothal

But sometimes

I'd like a different kind of fantasy.

Something splashy and trashy.

Something in high heels and false eyelashes 

and suspect gender.

That's a real kind of magic.

A city set aside for adults to play adult games,

to believe in the very real power of 

glamour

in its original sense.

I want to go to

LAS VEGAS!

Yeah, Baby!

They even have castles!

Hop on over to either 

Lexa's or Julie's blog

and join in the fun.

Prizes too!

I went back and identified the castles,
so you can visit them,
at least on the page.

Most of them are in the north of England.
I've  been lucky enough to live near
all of them, except Warwick Castle.

NaNoWriMo and me.

Well, I didn't complete my NaNoWriMo.

I got to 21,007 words, though,

so nearly half.

Right?

This does mean that my 44,000 word

fledgling novel

is now 

63317 words long!

Yay!

Someone who did complete their

NaNoWriMo is

Magaly Guerrero.

Well done, Magaly

and congratulations!