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jemck at 04:27pm on 20/12/2007
jemck at 04:27pm on 20/12/2007Y'know, I'm actually starting to feel a bit Christmassy. As opposed to Ebenenzer Scrooge's less amiable sister which was the case not so long ago.
The three-day shopping/wrapping/posting/shopping marathon was followed by the three-day housework marathon and now everything's pretty much done as far as that's concerned, so I should not be waking up at 5 am with the To Do list scrolling through my brain any more. But it's not that. Yes, cards and parcels are now arriving in quantity, but it's not that either.
It's on account of today, I drove over to Faringdon, one of those ancient characterful market towns with which the Cotswolds are lavishly supplied, to have lunch with Paul Cornell, known to lovers of Doctor Who as the writer of 'Father's Day' and 'Human Nature/Family of Blood', and also known to the discerning SF reader as a novelist of no small talent. We've done lunch in the lead up to Christmas for several years now, on the basis that we solitary writing types don't get work's festive do's but we still deserve some kind of seasonal treat. So we had a very pleasant lunch and long, relaxing and wide-ranging chat about oh, all sorts of things. But it's not even that which specifically, finally kicked the yule-tide spirit into first gear for me.
It was the hoar frost. Hereabouts it was clear and cold and still zero celsius at midday and as I drove to Faringdon, I hit fog, thin at first so you could still see the sun through it, looking like a pearl. The wet and windy weather in early December stripped all the autumn leaves away and so all the timeless hedges and trees and water meadows and medieval stone-slated houses and farms were white with frost. Proper winter weather as far as I'm concerned, all looking like a particularly beautiful Christmas card. That's what's done it for me!
The three-day shopping/wrapping/posting/shopping marathon was followed by the three-day housework marathon and now everything's pretty much done as far as that's concerned, so I should not be waking up at 5 am with the To Do list scrolling through my brain any more. But it's not that. Yes, cards and parcels are now arriving in quantity, but it's not that either.
It's on account of today, I drove over to Faringdon, one of those ancient characterful market towns with which the Cotswolds are lavishly supplied, to have lunch with Paul Cornell, known to lovers of Doctor Who as the writer of 'Father's Day' and 'Human Nature/Family of Blood', and also known to the discerning SF reader as a novelist of no small talent. We've done lunch in the lead up to Christmas for several years now, on the basis that we solitary writing types don't get work's festive do's but we still deserve some kind of seasonal treat. So we had a very pleasant lunch and long, relaxing and wide-ranging chat about oh, all sorts of things. But it's not even that which specifically, finally kicked the yule-tide spirit into first gear for me.
It was the hoar frost. Hereabouts it was clear and cold and still zero celsius at midday and as I drove to Faringdon, I hit fog, thin at first so you could still see the sun through it, looking like a pearl. The wet and windy weather in early December stripped all the autumn leaves away and so all the timeless hedges and trees and water meadows and medieval stone-slated houses and farms were white with frost. Proper winter weather as far as I'm concerned, all looking like a particularly beautiful Christmas card. That's what's done it for me!
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