Snowflakes

December 7th

7th

"A lovely thing about Christmas is that it's compulsory, like a thunderstorm, and we all go through it together." ― Garrison Keillor, Leaving Home.

I wake up with a jolt, suddenly becoming aware of how uncomfortable and stiff my body feels. Blinking rapidly, I glance around. I'm in the lounge and, apparently, my older brother has just discovered me.

"Rise and shine, Kiddo," he says, his voice too loud for my sleepy state.

I groan, closing my eyes again. I attempt to roll over but under-estimate the size of the sofa and end up rolling onto the hard laminate floor. The sudden force of my body hitting the ground knocks all the air out of me so I just lie there, paralysed, gulping air back into my lungs.

I hear Jay's hysterical laughter as he splutters out how hilariously clumsy I am.

"Shuuup," I mumble, words stringing together into a general grumble.

It takes a moment for Jay's laughter to subside as I clamber into a standing position. I squeeze my eyes shut as a wave of dizziness hits me.

Despite my less than perfect start to the day, I feel content. No, more than that, I feel happy, excited, joyous. No doubt my good mood is largely due to the length of silver tinsel hung around my brother's neck. In addition, he has a set of brown reindeer antlers placed atop his fair hair.

There is no way in hell he would let any of his popular friends see him like this but being his sister I guess I'm entitled to what he later tells me is a privelige.

❄

Today is what has to be one of the best parts of Christmas. I learn from Jay that we're decorating the house.

Since moving from Australia around ten months ago, my Mum, Dad, Jay and I (as well as Grace the cat, of course) moved into a huge Victorian house on a sleepy street on the outskirts of Guildford.

It seems that my Dad's boring sounding managing job that brought us here intitially pays even better than his previous one. Jay loves being able to buy pretty much whatever he wants. It doesn't make much difference to me; so long as I have a phone, laptop and a few books I'm set.

This Christmas, probably because it's a new house, we are planning on going all out on decorations. As the whole family travel to the Christmas tree place in the car, my Mum excitedly informs us of all of her plans. I think she's the only person who gets just as caught up in the whole Christmas thing as me.

I spend the journey staring out the window and singing softly along to All I Want For Christmas Is You thats drifting from the radio speakers.

"But, Jim, don't you think this one would work better in the lounge?" My mother asks, discreetly rolling her eyes as my father shakes his head in repsonse.

"I thought we'd already discussed this, Liz, we're having a big one in the lounge and a small one in the dining room. Do you want to be getting pine tree needles in your Christmas dinner because the tree is so big?!"

"Okay, okay. No need to get frustrated about it!" she hisses back, which is ironic seeing as she's the one who's lowered her voice to that irritated whisper.

After over half an hour picking out a tree and then choosing where it's going to be put, harmony is finally restored amongst the family and we're back in the warmth of the house at last.

Somehow, even though I'm pretty sure I'm developing frostbite and I have a headache from listening to my Mum and Dad bickering - as well as Jay, who chipped in too - I still feel happy.

Must be the tinsel, or something.

❄

It only occurs to me as I'm walking into my bedroom and my eyes fall on upon the silver bracelet on my dressing table that this is the first day since the month began that I haven't received a secret santa present. Of course, there's no way that I could get a present, not when I don't have access to my locker, but I can't help feel a little disappointed.

My daily gifts have now become like a part of my life, the highlight of most of my days. It's weird: how something as simple as a little chocolate or a letter or a bracelet can make me so happy, but it does. I guess it's true that it really is the thought that counts. In my case, it's the thought that somebody is taking the time and effort to give me a present every single day, with out even wanting anything in return.

I realise I'm smiling as I think about it.

I've smiled a lot this month already.