This morning I arose to discover – for the first time in living memory – there was no Advent calendar hanging on the kitchen wall where, from this day, an Advent calendar would normally hang!
I usually embrace Advent (and Easter and Christmas and any other celebration – religious or otherwise – that incorporates chocolate in the theme of things), but in the absence of a Lindt Advent calendar, I’m not sure I want to participate in Advent this year.
Just as I decided to take myself back to bed in potent protest, the doorbell rang. I opened the front door whereupon a handheld RFID reader was thrust before my bleary eyes accompanied by the customary utterance “Sign here mate!” and before I had completed scribbling my middle initial on the filthy device, the uniformed man was gone. I wasn’t even sure what I had just signed for… perhaps a mitigation of assorted Belgian chocolates… or a slab of elm…
A bony elbow in the small of my back swiftly snapped me out of it as Virginia barged her way past with two clanking cartons cramped under her chin. It’s not chocolate, but Advent is looking a little rosier all of a sudden.