I had planned to make a gingerbread house today, with sweets lining the roof and the door, but I think it will take too long. Instead, I guess I'll just make lots and lots of gingerbread men. We can't let the ingredients go to waste, after all.
Whenever I think of Christmas, my mind immediately jumps to Victoriana - after all, so much of our Christmas traditions come from the Victorian Era. Christmas trees, sugar cookies...most of the carols we sing are from then, as well.
My mother bought me a Nutcracker, all dressed in green and gold and with a blue jewel in his hat. His name is Tchaikovsky, and I like to make him gnash his teeth.
Tonight my grandparents will come to our house, and we'll have cheese and grapes and crackers and sausage, and pork for main course. I don't like pork, so I always end up eating nothing but the crackling, even though I know how horrible it is for one's health. Then, we'll all crowd around the piano and sing carols. Hardly anyone sings carols anymore. It makes me quite sad. I went to a carols evening last night, and people didn't recognise half of the carols we planned to sing. I want to learn how to play the piano properly, so I can make sure that my future family always remembers how to sing carols.
I'm wrapping presents at the moment. We found tartan-patterned wrapping paper, which I like. It makes me think of Burberry, and wintertime. I've always preferred wintertime. Next on the agenda is Christmas baking. There is so much to do, and my tea is turning cold.
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