Won’t You Take Me to Advent Town?

Yes, the 1980’s hit Funky Town is now stuck in my head after typing that title. Did someone say #earworm or #brainitch.

Moving along, believe it or not, I’ve never had an Advent calendar. Until now…

Yesterday Eliza and Nathan gifted me an entire Advent Town!

I opened day one last night; inside was a chocolate and an instruction to ‘make up some Christmas jokes’. In true punny style, I came out with two off the top of my head:

“Does the sun shine every Christmas Day in Africa?”

“No, sometimes they have rain, dear…”

AND

What do you call a Christmas cat?

Santa Claws

This morning I opened day two before I left for work. Inside were mini marshmallows and an instruction to ‘write a letter to Santa’.  I thought my blog would be a great place to catch St. Nick’s attention, so…

Dear Santa,

The last time I wrote you a letter I was about seven. Maybe eight. It’s been so long, I can’t remember exactly when, but I know I wasn’t nine, because that was the year The Bean and I moved to Mossel Bay. It was a difficult time. Yes, there were gifts, and family around, but it wasn’t the same as all the Christmases before, where I would wake up to find a pillowcase full of presents and look out of my bedroom window eight-storeys up and by Christmas magic and childlike imagination, see you in your sleigh, with Rudolph at the front of the reindeer pack lighting the way.

As I’ve got older, I’ve realized that the things that really matter are those that are priceless: family, love, friendship, health, belonging, and compassion (to name only a few). Maybe it is because I am wiser (or at least I think I am), or because as a child, mortality is the last thing on your mind. If there is one thing I’ve learned being locked down this year, it is that health indeed is wealth. I’ve also discovered who my real friends are. I am still mad at some people for thinking they’re better than others (when they too have skeletons in their closet), but I am working on managing my resentment. The griping about the hoity-toity snobs over a glass of wine with Elizabeth or Eliza has helped. Speaking of wine: if you’re allowed to travel with cases of it in your sleigh, would you mind dropping a bottle or two of a decent red through The Cave’s kitchen window, because it doesn’t have a chimney?

The only other things on my Christmas wishlist otherwise would be a James Patterson book and some expensive chocolates to nibble on while I read it, and a month’s worth of petrol and electricity for The Toppie and the Bean.

Last, but not least, Santa, thanks for reading my letter, even though I am not a kid anymore.

Merry Christmas to you, and all at the North Pole.

PS: Don’t forget to take part in the #ReflectionsOfAMisfit #AdventChallenge on our Facebook Page.

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