‘Twas the night before Christmas. You could tell this from the furiously furtive wrapping activities and mince pie production-lines and excited children pretending to be well behaved whilst sneakily stealing chocolate baubles from the tree. Whilst I’ve never uttered ‘bah, humbug’ out loud, Scrooge’s words do reflect my feelings about being comprehensively ripped off by myth-making so flexible and so divorced from its origins that even Tommy Yaxley Robinson Lennon can seek to exploit it with some level of impunity.
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Sweet Little Lies
Mother and daughter, Dilys and Martha, sat around the kitchen table. Sian and Gareth were playing in the other room. An argument broke out. Martha sighed and, calling them into the room, gently chastised them, explaining they should love each other not fight.
Dilys snorted, watching them leave the room, pinching each other out of sight of their mother. She was thinking she didn’t approve of this soft love, as Martha called it. Loving her grandchildren, she realised that times had changed but in her opinion not for the better.
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