My mother mentioned that yesterday was St Andrew’s Day, adding that this meant that there would be no more “special days” until Christmas.
Well, I may have been brought up a Protestant, but I lived in Spain long enough to know that that couldn’t be right: every day seems to be the feast day of a dozen or more saints in the Catholic calendar, so I headed off to Google to find out more about St Andrew, as well as what other dates may be coming up that I should pay attention to.
Continue reading “ordinary days”
The August bank holiday weekend is just about at an end.
Despite it having been the longest, hottest summer in who knows how long, yesterday we had torrential rain and today has been as grey and breezy as might have been expected if global warming had never been invented.
Essentially, there are no more national fiestas now until Christmas.
Continue reading “things worth celebrating”
When I lived in Spain I used to complain about how long the holiday season lasted: it seemed to stretch all the way from the fiestas at the beginning of December until past Twelfth Night.**
Here in the UK, though, much as I was bemoaning the supermarket aisles crammed with marzipan, iced cake and mince pies back in October, Christmas seems to be a bit of a flash in the pan.
Continue reading “almost over”
I’ve never been much of a one for parties and events, so don’t usually have to worry about juggling a diary full of Christmas lunches and business gatherings, and coping with burning the candle at both ends, with breakfast meetings following hard on the (high) heels of fancy meals and late night drinks.
This year, though, the holiday season celebrations seem to have started early and for some reason I am more involved than ever before.
Continue reading “senseless”