16 Sleeps till Christmas
Haiku from the Hill
Look how the Holly
Shines green with berries so red
Yule Spirit cometh
Copyright © JRFC December 2019 Image from Pixabay
Author The Mush from the Hill
Raise a Glass
16 Sleeps till Christmas
Christmas comes but once every year
Let us all stand and give a cheer
Join me, raise a glass and revere
Christmas comes but once every year
Stay strong through life and persevere
Give of yourself and volunteer
Christmas comes but once every year
Let us all stand and give a cheer
Copyright © JRFC December 2019 Image from Pixabay
A Carol for Christmas
17 Sleeps till Christmas
This one takes my right back, I mean infant and junior schools and nativity plays. I love this carol, it’s about the memories of not having any school lessons while we rehearsing the play. The fun times of school Christmas parties and fancy dress costumes.
Did I tell you I won second prize for my Darth Vader costume. I had to have a cut football and cardboard mask for a helmet and I wore my mothers boots. Almost scarred me for life, but it was fun.
Once in Royal David City
Once in royal David’s city,
Stood a lowly cattle shed,
Where a mother laid her baby
In a manger for His bed:
Mary was that mother mild,
Jesus Christ her little child.
He came down to earth from heaven,
Who is God and Lord of all,
And His shelter was a stable,
And His cradle was a stall;
With the poor and meek and lowly,
Lived on earth our Saviour holy.
And through all his wondrous childhood,
He would honour and obey,
Love and watch the lowly mother,
In whose gentle arms He lay.
Christian children all should be,
Mild, obedient, good as He.
For He is our child-hood’s pattern,
Day by day like us He grew,
He was little, weak, and helpless,
Tears and smiles like us He knew,
And He feeleth for our sadness,
And He shareth in our gladness.
And our eyes at last shall see Him,
Through His own redeeming love;
For that child so dear and gentle,
Is our Lord in heaven above,
And He leads His children on,
To the place where He is gone.
Not in that poor lowly stable,
With the oxen standing by,
We shall see Him, but in heaven,
Set at God’s right hand on high;
When like stars his children crowned,
All in white shall be around.
Why not have a listen to this lovely carol.
Image from Pinterest, modified by JRFC
Are You In Love With Your Own Writing?
“A word after a word after a word is power.”― Margaret Atwood
There’s this thing called verbal narcissism. It’s pretty much the ability to game a wall, if it comes to that. To sell sand in the Sahara Desert.
It also means to be so in love with your own words that it could mean talking on and on about things that few people ever care about. Or it could happen that you do deliver a strong message, but you’re using so many words to do so, that it’s all distilled to the point of making people want to smack you over the head with their keyboards.
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A Good Ole Christmas Jingle
18 Sleeps till Christmas
So I can’t unfortunately be with you right now but in my head we are all together in the most nostalgic Christmassy place the could be. The log fire is crackling, our favourite tipples are in hand, food aplenty and it’s time for a sing song.
I’ve prepared a couple of these post because these are the songs that, for me, epitomise Christmas (phew that was a big word). There are also some beautiful lyrics to be read and if I can find it, and I usually do, I’ll stick a link at the end for you to watch the video.
Right then, lets get this Christmas Shindig started. Join in the fun in the comments if you’d like.
Sung by the Pogues and featuring Kirsty MacColl here is Fairytale of New York.
Clink those glasses… Cheers!
Fairytale of New York
It was Christmas Eve babe
In the drunk tank
An old man said to me, won’t see another one
And then he sang a song
The Rare Old Mountain Dew
I turned my face away
And dreamed about you
Got on a lucky one
Came in eighteen to one
I’ve got a feeling
This year’s for me and you
So happy Christmas
I love you baby
I can see a better time
When all our dreams come true
They’ve got cars big as bars
They’ve got rivers of gold
But the wind goes right through you
It’s no place for the old
When you first took my hand
On a cold Christmas Eve
You promised me
Broadway was waiting for me
You were handsome
You were pretty
Queen of New York City
When the band finished playing
They howled out for more
Sinatra was swinging,
All the drunks they were singing
We kissed on a corner
Then danced through the night
The boys of the NYPD choir
Were singing “Galway Bay”
And the bells were ringing out
For Christmas day
You’re a bum
You’re a punk
You’re an old slut on junk
Lying there almost dead on a drip in that bed
You scumbag, you maggot
You cheap lousy faggot
Happy Christmas your arse
I pray God it’s our last
The boys of the NYPD choir
Still singing “Galway Bay”
And the bells were ringing out
For Christmas day
I could have been someone
Well so could anyone
You took my dreams from me
When I first found you
I kept them with me babe
I put them with my own
Can’t make it all alone
I’ve built my dreams around you
The boys of the NYPD choir
Still singing “Galway Bay”
And the bells are ringing out
For Christmas day
Go on check it out.
Image from Pinterest, modified by JRFC
