Tag Archives: christmas

Yuletide

Posted on December 20, 2021 by Scribe Doll

There are things you can’t tell other people – or only just a few people, perhaps: that you love the time of year when nights are long.  That you long for the moment, at around four o’clock, when you watch the … Continue reading →

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Christmas Eve

Posted on December 25, 2016 by Scribe Doll

“Once in Royal David’s City Stood a lowly cattle shed”. I hold my breath.  I always find myself holding my breath for the minute or so between the BBC Radio 4 announcer’s voice falling silent and the chorister getting to … Continue reading →

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The Secret of Winter

Posted on November 27, 2016 by Scribe Doll

When winter envelops you in its embrace, the only place you can look is within.  Summer makes you look outwards.  It entertains you with a spectacle of colours, intoxicates you with its heady, floral scents, dazzles you with its bright … Continue reading →

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There’s no Santa Claus but…

Posted on December 20, 2015 by Scribe Doll

Tamsin wrote the letter with her favourite pen.  The blue and gold one she had got for her birthday.  She formed all the letters carefully, so Santa Claus would be able to read her handwriting.  Her grandmother said good children … Continue reading →

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Winter and the Art of Waiting – and Trusting

Posted on December 22, 2013 by Scribe Doll

One of my recurring nightmares is missing Christmas.  When I am under intense stress and feel like I am losing control of my life, I start dreaming that, somehow or other, I’ve overslept, miscalculated the dates, forgot to look at … Continue reading →

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Yes

Posted on December 1, 2013 by Scribe Doll

A sea of people rushes forth as soon as the traffic lights turn green.  A faceless crowd all looking down as they stride.  I dodge them to avoid collision.  I try in vain to catch someone – anyone’s – eye.  A man’s … Continue reading →

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Odds & Ends: Christmas Eve (Claws Sheathed – Promise!)

Posted on December 25, 2011 by Scribe Doll

My Russian-Armenian grandmother celebrated on Christmas Eve.  That was when she served the special dinner, after which presents were unwrapped.  Christmas Eve was also full of mystery and magic.  It was when Gogol’s witch flew out on her broomstick, plucking … Continue reading →

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