Yule Log

I considered, briefly, attempting to write some sort of ‘Christmassy’ story before realising that I really couldn’t. Story-wise I deal almost exclusively in the ridiculous, the non-sequitur and the strange; I like Christmas rather too much to do that too it. One day, maybe, I will conquer this fear and do something Yule-y but for now, no, all quiet on the tinsel-related front.

Ah I do like a bit of Christmas though. In fact, beyond the freezing cold, I’m rather enamoured…enamored? Whatever. Beyond the cold I like this time of year in general. I have my birthday in November, there’s firework night, got the new year to look forward to (even if I’m working over it; who cares, I like my job, hah) and, of course, Christmas. Get to go to the coast, relax some more, look at things in paper and wonder what they might be before eating copious roast potatoes and a bird that was once alive.

I do this at other times in the year, but it all feels better at Christmas. There’s something in the air. Possibly seagull crap, since I am at the coast. It’d be frozen too, but hell. Who cares? It’s all fun. And it’ll be another year under my belt, which gives me perverse pride.

And now I’m just rambling. But yeah, happy yuletidings.

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