Good morning world... and what shall I write of today?

This morning I wandered over and checked a few blogs. Never did the RSS thing except for a few weeks, because it caused those I knew and cared for to become like communication toothpaste, where all thoughts and intents were blended together into a grey goo. Visiting a blog was, for me, a little like dropping by someone's home: it was their chosen environment decorated in their tastes, and an opportunity to pass a few words (sometimes if they were online it would be like a chat-room).

Of course blogging is very different, as Marc V observed a couple of weeks back, when 1 month of posts would exceed in terms of output the last 2 years. Everyone seemed to have a lot to say, and we were all busy saying it. The good side is that it built community between people who would otherwise never have met or interacted, and I feel priviledged to have been part of that. We have developed friendships that will last beyond blogging, although the convenience of doing so compared to writing letters, say, is enormous.

Where I'm sat now I can hear the wind whistling through the vents in our stove (unlit at this point - chilly) and up the chimney. The weather outside is blustery and cold, but not freezing.

And reading Randall's blog reminded me of the way Christmas is such a pressure for those expected to perform their jobs through this period, to the benefit and pleasure of others. One is supposed to be jolly and exude the feelings of celebration, when instead you've been burdened by the burdens of others.

And God has a sense of humour. For me it wasn't too bad: I spent Monday night putting together video clips, music, service plan, readings etc, all carefully crafted, only for there to be just 6 of us on Christmas morning (plus one who arrived at 11, having read the time written incorrectly in a service schedule). So we sat in a circle, prayed our thanks, Chris read one of my mothers poems and Georgie read some further thoughts. We sang along to a couple of pre-recorded carols from extreme ends of the spectrum, one full of pomp with trumpet fanfares, one the calypso carol from a childrens school (and this is JUST how I remember it as a kid, even down to the attempted ethnic phrasing).

Naturally we got there early, and I was a little on edge, because I don't really like to be responsible for carrying a whole meeting, even when it's pre-planned. Thought I'd held it together until I was reminded about lighting the wreath, and then my face didn't manage to hide my feelings about that. Woops.

Is one supposed to view Christmas as something to survive?

It was all good in the end. We managed a long walk Christmas afternoon and a nice dinner with my mum that evening.