Normally I am very against Christmas starting much before December 15 and certainly not in November, however, this year is different. I have bought my Christmas teas and I am liking them. This week I took delivery of a Christmas jumper for herself. She really likes it. “I might get one too,” I said with, possibly, excess enthusiasm. “Don’t do that,” she said, “because then I would have to burn this one.” My tentative proposal for family Christmas jumpers have been definitively nixed. Perhaps for the best.
In other news, Michael’s classmates had to give presentations on a topic of interest to them and one boy did his grandmother who died a couple of years ago and almost everyone was in tears. I love this for a bunch of 15/16 year olds.
Alas, the boys are tired of cinema night and want a break this weekend. Is next weekend, when I get to choose, too early for a Christmas film? Suggestions on family Christmas films welcome.
And finally, I was talking to my father and, inspired by a podcast I was listening to on aviation, I asked him when was his first flight. “1936, when I was 11,” said he. There was some kind of air show in the field where they subsequently built Cork airport and, in exchange for a fee, I suspect, people were taken up for a short flight over Cork. He enjoyed it very much, thanks for asking and even after 84 years he continues to sound pretty enthusiastic about the experience although he did temper his enthusiasm by saying that had he known then what he now knows about plane safety in the 30s, he might have been slightly more wary.
