Today, I am trying desperately to cope with a major disappointment.
There is something I do every year at this time which, sadly, I cannot do this year.
For once, it’s not down to my health.
It is, I think, yet another victim of Covid-19.
Oh yes, I know there are those who will cheer this particular disappointment of mine.
There are those who will snigger at my sadness.
There are those who will actually take pleasure in the fact that I am mourning.
I should have explained.
This day last year, I was in the Brown Thomas Christmas shop, buying a few decorations, admiring the tree and sniffing those lovely Christmassy smells.
But twelve months on, there is no such pleasure.
I had to ask them. And this is what they said: “The Christmas shop opening date has not been confirmed however we are planning to open late September.”
But there are only 125 days to go, I mean, it’s almost Christmas Eve.
I have been Dinging and Donging Merrily on High for weeks in anticipation of the BT shop opening.
I have been whistling Jingle Bells and humming Driving Home for Christmas and O Holy Night.
But now I have to wait until September. September? Sure that’s almost Easter!!!
… only 490 days to Christmas next year I suppose.