O Christmas Tree!

All three boys turned up for our traditional annual trip to Aberfoyle to choose our Christmas tree. This was very nice especially when they are so busy - and we had made it very clear that they were not in any way obliged to come. James, Ally and I set off from Glasgow, and Jamie and Davie from Edinburgh. We arrived first and started looking at the trees which were laid out by size and type. When I saw Jamie's bright blue car coming down the slope into the car park I waved and shouted happily, thus inadvertently drawing the attention of the other people choosing trees, who all looked up at the car. Not realising that he had an audience, David chose that moment to make a humorously but nevertheless rude gesture at us using the middle fingers of both hands. Not my proudest maternal moment. We duly chose an attractive Norway Spruce and went for a tasty lunch in the café at the David Marshall Lodge, followed by a walk down to the waterfall, which was great fun as we went to the bird hide, took pictures of the sculptures, and counted the elven doors that have been scattered through the woods with poems attached about each elf. We had such a lovely time, and we have now set up and decorated the tree and we are chatting and listening to Michael Bublé singing us Christmas songs beside the fire in the lounge. We are all feeling festive except the cats who are very uneasy about a tree being brought inside the house! 

A supposedly nice lunch and film

This morning was spent doing housework and general house maintenance, and as a treat for James, I made him a very nice lunch consisting of bagels spread with cream cheese and topped with smoked salmon. I first suspected that something was wrong when I noticed James pulling faces and sucking his teeth in a disapproving manner. Needless to say I ignored this behaviour, and after a while James was forced to vocalise his feelings. "That was the worst lunch you have ever made me."  he declared mournfully. It turns out that he hates both cream cheese and bagels, and finds the combination particularly disgusting because allegedly it sticks to the roof of his mouth (as if that was a bad thing - I like it because you can savour it even more as it gradually disintegrates). "Next time just give me the smoked salmon" he moaned.

Later we had a few errands in town and found ourselves at the GFT at 5 p.m. just as a showing of Lewis Grassic Gibbon's "Sunset Song" was about to start. We had been deliberating about going to a movie in the evening but I had my doubts about seeing Sunset Song; I know the book very well and have also seen it performed on the stage and on television. It's not that I mind seeing a film of a book that I have read; it's just that I know this one so well that I knew there would be no surprises at all and that I was likely to take issue with some aspect of the interpretation. However James seemed very keen to see it and I felt quite touched because I assumed that this was because he knew of my love for the book. As I had predicted the film didn't quite live up to my expectations although the acting was all good. I didn't think that it adequately captured the hardships of Chris's life, it missed out a lot, and way the ending was filmed really disappointed me, because the book's ending is much better. All the same, I enjoyed it and was glad that I had seen it. James on the other hand absolutely hated it. I hadn't realised that he had never read the book or seen the play or television series so he had had no idea what to expect and found it very drear. So I thanked him for watching it with me - and it turned out that far from indulging me, the reason he had wanted to see it was because he had heard that the scenery was good while listening to his favourite radio programme "Out of Doors". And to think I thought it was for my sake! James has certainly blotted his copybook with me today!

Update on Sunday morning - James says that going to see the film WAS for me as well as the scenery!

Christmas card campaign

Our new carpet was delivered this morning. Unfortunately it was 40 cm (about 15 inches) too narrow for the room. I will draw a veil over the details of how this happened but suffice it to say that it was not the fault of our supplier John Lewis.

When a rather despondent James went over to visit Grandma, Alasdair had the idea of cheering him up by writing all the Christmas cards while he was gone. In thirty years of marriage I have always written all of the Christmas cards by myself. James helps out by printing address labels but it is still quite a time consuming task, usually taking a couple of evenings. However with Alasdair on the case we were like a well-oiled machine. Ally is certainly a good organiser! He got me to write the cards and he labelled the envelopes, put in the cards, and allocated them into piles for posting or local delivery. It was actually a pleasure and we were a good team. When James arrived home a couple of hours later we were just finishing and he was suitably impressed.

Update at midnight - not only has Ally posted the stamped cards but he has just walked for an hour around our neighbourhood and has delivered all of the local cards! What a boy!

Another film night

After a very busy day at Acme Sweatshop (a tribute to my American blog friend who calls her work place that - I have been thinking of you a lot this past week Susan) I set off into Glasgow to join some pupils for another film night at the GFT this evening. It was the last film in their '80s season, and another film that I have never seen; "Planes, Trains and Automobiles." It was the kind of American film that makes me cringe - the kind of film where everything that can possibly go wrong, goes wrong. In this instance a grumpy businessman played by Steve Martin is trying to make his way home to Chicago for Thanksgiving. However he runs into a hapless shower curtain ring salesman played by the late John Candy and they have a series of horrifyingly inevitable misadventures. However either I am becoming more relaxed about the genre in my old age (after all, Mr Bean's Holiday is one of my favourite films) or the undoubted talent of Martin and Candy won me over, because I found myself enjoying it. The ending was rather heartwarming and I was so proud of our pupils during the discussion at the end. 

When I got home Ally and James were watching an interesting documentary by Simon Sebag Montefiore about the history of Spain. He mentioned a Roman prefect of Seville called "Diogenianus" which we found hilarious in a Monty Python kind of way because of the way he pronounced it - we are very childish.

Christmas shopping campaign

James and I set off on a mission into town today to do our Christmas shopping with a strategic plan (list of presents) that we made while having breakfast in bed, and a steely determination to succeed. We marched into the fray from shop to shop undaunted by the wind and rain, unflinchingly making crucial decisions about our purchases. The list really helped. By the time we had lunch at Zizzi's we were two thirds done. Instead of lingering over coffee as is our wont, we pressed on to several more retail destinations but did not falter until our final sortie to John Lewis. We had something in mind for Grandma that we couldn't find, and I suggested one more sweep of the ladies' section. As we walked through the store I could hear quiet but unmistakable sounds of distress coming from James behind me - a sort of groaning and whimpering. I knew then that we were finished for the day. When shopping you have to know when to employ a tactical withdrawal and have a nice coffee at home with your troops. Which is what we did. Still, 95% of Christmas shopping done - excellent! 

The Proclaimers

We went to the Royal Concert Hall this evening to see The Proclaimers. We have seen them many times in many venues over the years and they are always great. Tonight was no exception - Sunshine on Leith and 500 Miles were highlights but all the songs were brilliant. Before the concert started a lady tripped on the stairs beside us and doused James and I  (and several other unfortunate people) in beer. She also fell heavily onto my recently healed ankle which worried me greatly, however it seems to be ok. We were stinking of beer when we got home and put our clothes straight into the washing machine - I sponged my poor bag as best I could. Ironically this bag was compared to a Mulberry bag on Saturday evening which delighted me. Luckily it's not a designer bag or I would have been distraught! I always ruin bags and shoes no matter how hard I try to take care of them.

In other news, this evening the government has voted to bomb Syria. 

Seasonal

It's wild and rainy outside - and yet when I arrived home this evening I noticed that it was strangely warm for the time of year. The temperature must have shot up during the day. I can hardly believe that we are in December already and I allowed myself to play All I Want for Christmas is You by Mariah Carey in the car as an acknowledgement that Christmas is coming soon. To explain, I self-ban unseasonal songs in the car - I never play "Mr Blue Sky" by ELO until the first properly warm and cloudless day of Spring, and I only play "Baby It's Cold Outside" by Tom Jones and Cerys Matthews during the winter. It would just be wrong to play songs inappropriate to the time of year. I would of course never judge someone else for doing so - even though they would be wrong! I also have songs that are only suitable for playing when I feel happy e.g. "Wagon Wheel" by Nathan Carter. And I have songs for when I feel thoughtful e.g. "Pulaski at Night" by Andrew Bird. Or for when I feel a bit sad e.g. "I Hope You Meet Again" by the Saw Doctors which I first heard at a funeral and whose lyrics remind me of when my Dad died. Like many other people I'm sure, music is an intrinsic part of my life, linked to times and events. A song that I haven't heard for years can evoke a particular day twenty or thirty years ago or more. In fact the song "Bye Bye Blackbird" takes me back beyond my own lifetime to a summer in about 1926 or 27 - my Dad described to me that he heard a man whistling it in his street in Coatbridge and it was the first tune that he ever remembered hearing. So when I hear it I always picture that little boy hearing it for the very first time.