tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6496460488742488789.post618487756156173487..comments2024-03-18T10:29:46.055+00:00Comments on Ken Armstrong Writing Stuff: A Stream of Christmasness Ken Armstronghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07775956557261111127noreply@blogger.comBlogger2125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6496460488742488789.post-62517096292499155362012-12-23T13:37:54.774+00:002012-12-23T13:37:54.774+00:00Happy Anniversary, Jim and Carrie, you'll keep...Happy Anniversary, Jim and Carrie, you'll keep Christmas together and that will be good. xKen Armstronghttps://www.blogger.com/profile/07775956557261111127noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6496460488742488789.post-74213011210618425462012-12-23T12:25:48.089+00:002012-12-23T12:25:48.089+00:00Considering the fact we’re about the same age ther...Considering the fact we’re about the same age there’s a lot here I can relate to. Christmas is not what it once was. I doubt it ever was what we imagined it to be and that was the thing, it was all to do with our imaginations; have they stopped working now we’re past the bloom of youth? I thought we writers got a pass. We have Christmas a day early now as I imagine many do since with so many divorced couples across the country there’s simply not enough time to fit in three or four Christmas meals in one twenty-four hour period. This means that the actual Christmas Day is a bit of a damp squib here. All the presents have been exchanged—and by <i>all</i> I mean the one that my daughter’s reduced me to which pains me but I’d dragged the magic on for about as long as one reasonably could and then some (I was still giving her an advent calendar full of tiny gifts well into her twenties)—and so it’s just another day like any other day only we have <i>Doctor Who</i> to look forward to which just makes it feel like a Saturday rather than Christmas Day. Ho hum. <br /><br />It’s my wedding anniversary today—fifteen years I think (I’m terrible aren’t I?)—and for the first time ever I forgot to put out Carrie’s pressie the night before; I got my days mixed up. I was up for three hours last night working so it wasn’t as if I didn’t have time. Anyway I had to rush back into my office and get my card and gift. Apparently she’d been dropping hints for weeks. I heard nothing. You don’t hint at me. My mind is <i>always</i> elsewhere. You <i>tell me</i> when you want me to remember or do something. <br /><br>Jim Murdochhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/12786388638146471193noreply@blogger.com