T'was the night before Christmas

Look busy, Jesus is coming...

So here we are, new blog, almost a New Year and my contribution amidst the other 6.5 Billion potential voices out there in the world (if you believe the world population clock that is).

Why start now?

Good question, and maybe it is at this point in life I feel the need to let go of some of these thoughts into the ether that is the Internet. Those who read this, maybe will become enlightened or on the other hand feel like they have just been given a lobotomy with a rusty spoon. Either way, love or hate what I am writing here but thank you for reading.

There is a lot floating around in the space between my ears, in time I am sure that will convert it's way to text and up into the glory of my very own blog here. For now though I will start with a few musings on this time of year.

I grew up in a small village in South Wales (In the UK not Down under), the kind of place that nearly every one of the 3,500 population new what you had done 30 secs before you had. Yep word spreads quickly, especially when there was a sense of trepidation at someone dragging their screaming child in over the doorstep by the ear for interrogation.

Moving on though I always and still do to this day love Christmas, or at least I think I do. I can tell you that this year I have dug deep to find the magic of years past, leaving what was home 9 years ago to pursue my career (which is going well thank you) and to all purposes a new life. This is my first Christmas period back in the UK for 4 years and to put things in perspective regards mood and searching for that magic; the only person who managed to wish me a Merry Christmas yesterday while out shopping was believe it or not a homeless person living rough on the streets of Cardiff. I don't want praise, or to be seen as some visionary for what happened. In essence I took a split second decision that as I was about to enjoy a Grande vanilla latte with an extra shot of espresso from Starbucks that it would not be so bad to buy him a warm drink, oh and a biscuit for his dog.

Countless times yesterday I was greeted with shock when wishing someone behind the shop counter a Merry Christmas, once or twice greeted with a look as if I had just shot their dog. Now what is wrong with this picture?

Perhaps it hasn't just occurred to only me, that in this day and age are we really so far up our own arses, that someone wishing us a Merry Christmas, peace and goodwill is greeted with the feeling of being as welcome as a fart in a spacesuit. No matter, whatever my experiences yesterday I have reached my goal of what I seek. I am here to be with family, I have a great set of friends, and above all I am feeling that magic surrounding me.

I am going to close this post with a link to a short story from Dylan Thomas, titled "A Child's Christmas in Wales" I hope you enjoy it - http://www.classicshorts.com/stories/xmas.html

Oh one point there, for those who don't know Dylan Thomas was a talented Welsh poet whose life was cut short due to alcoholism, another testament to the fact that every genius has their flaws. I would also encourage you to check out his other works, the most famous being "Under milk wood" and the poem "Do not go gentle"

So tonight for me... will be a trip to Church, my first "Midnight mass" at 10pm in 12 Years. Then after being filled with the holy spirit, will open a bottle of 12 year old Scotch spirit and fill myself with a few drams.

If you manage to stumble across this blog, I wish you and yours a very Merry Christmas, with the promise of peace, hope and love.