I was ostensibly, no, actually really, trying to find Christmas presents. I had taken myself off to Garmisch, which is a veritable metropolis compared to Bovinia. I even felt nervous as I walked along the main street and found myself surrounded by people. That is how much of a country bumpkin I am. The quest for purchases started well though - I was striding along purposefully, heading for a bookshop to find something for my pa. Then, out of the corner of my eye, I registered 'Esprit'. Before I knew it, my feet were walking into the store and I was holding a pair of jeans in my hand. I was on clothes-shopping autopilot - find the right size, hold up the garment against myself, touch the fabric, smell the fabric (weird, I know, but I always do it), turn it this and that way, put it over my arm to be tried on. Proceed to next rack, and oh look, there's something else I should try on, just to see how it looks. Fast forward twenty minutes and I was on my way again, back on the straight and narrow, with a brand new pair of jeans in a red bag. I told myself that they would probably look worse at home and that I'd most likely return them.*
In my defence I'd say that this little extravagance was a blessing in disguise. I was now free to concentrate entirely on the loved ones for whom I was buying. Temptation had been succumbed to and firmly put aside for another day. I bought nothing more for me, although a present meant for my mother may or may not actually make it to her house for Christmas. I tried it on when I got home and took an immediate fancy to it. What to do? She might not even like it... and she'd be none the wiser if I kept it and sent her something else (except she reads this blog, but I'll get round that one). Hmm.
Despite all this, I can now tick off most of my list and start thinking about my pet-hate, buying wrapping paper and worse still wrapping up presents. But by the way, did I tell you I am looking forward to Christmas after all? My scrooge-itis has worn off and I am feeling most festive this week. I even went out yesterday and bought the children an artificial Christmas tree for their living room, as it is such a torture every year waiting for CG to decide that the time is right to (a) buy (b) put up and (c) decorate our Nordmann pine, or whatever they are called. I know they aren't classy, but aren't artificial trees better for the environment? Something to be pondered upon, but not till after January 6th, 2011, when I am busy removing pine needles from every inch of the ground floor. Because hell will freeze over before my husband allows an artificial tree into his Christmas parlour.
*They look great and there's no way I'm returning these babies.
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