fragrant pots of colour

Well, the new tree is up and I am looking forward to being home tonight sinking beneath the depths of blue and red colour while plucking through the gazillion projects before my deft hands. It was lovely decorating with Charlie Brown Christmas music floating up around our ears.But first must finish off this workaday day and then head over to pick up Aiden, find some yummy foodstuff and head back for his christmas concert. I love the christmas concert of a wooden floored gym and the comforting stage of my youth. I love the reminder that when I was in grade school, we had a contest to write a christmas play and mine won ... because it was all kept anonymously, I somehow ended up also playing the lead role, the head cheese, well actually it was a mouse but whatever it was fun. I will be all proud mom with the camera annoying the audience with my flash bulb pictures and scurrying around to get the best possible angle of my sweet guy. It occurs to me that I must be somewhat of an embarrasment to him never mind the fact that there will be 4 of us proud parental units there to watch, praise and somehow make him want to sink softly into the wings. Thank you Roo for saying that I have domestic godessness and that I am way to organised ... tis true but remember that the truly organised are really hiding the fact that they are chaos anarchy throbbing beneath the surface of explosion. My being organised is a rebellious need to create order in my ever crowded and dangerously dancing waddle on the edge of sanity/insanity and if the ever multi-dimensional stream of consciousness talking to myself, stories in my head, too many conversations about nothing were to escape into a locker of crumpled papers and month old tuna fish ... I would be lost or found floundering and flopping on an intersection bound for nowhere. Again ... tis true. There, I think I have managed to kill off the remaining minutes of the day of crowded papers and too many meetings and I can't seem to stop ... Stop.