In lieu of building a bonfire or going to a festival I celebrated the return of light to this hemisphere today by going to a chanting group. (And also I thought it might encourage a certain little baby to be born). Blissing out into Sanskrit lyrics that I only vaguely understand the meaning of was very soothing and my current idea of an afternoon in Nirvana.
I hope said little bub didn't get too relaxed by it all because we need some action pretty soon, otherwise the hospital protocols kick in and they get all serious on our arses, talking about induction and drips and more ultrasounds. It's a pity it has to be like that really because it makes me feel a little pressured even though I'm only a week overdue. Time to try the chilli, castor oil, acupuncture, sex, climbing stairs, bumpy car rides me thinks...
Maybe baby has decided that being Cancerian is preferable to Gemini? Or figures that being born on the 23rd might slot in nicely to the family seeing as we already have a 21, 22 and 24 (of various months). Who knows? Maybe Solstice night is the night and tomorrow there'll be another small human in the world. We'll see.
We've dusted off the old fakey and put up the decorations to the dulcit tones of Bing Crosby.
Somewhat of a tradition now if I think back to last year.
I never imagined I'd use a fake Christmas tree, and I never imagined I'd enjoy Bing singing Christmas carols in such a big way. Maybe my tiny house elves are inspiring my mood.
