Getting blasé?

After dinner, as the guests leave, she gives me a nod, reminding me that we have a job to do before the evening's done. Her other half is walking home too, so comes along for the ride. We turn onto the road and he says, where are you going to do it? Well, wherever we fancy really. What, you haven't got a plan? Erm... no, not really. Well, what about here? OK. And there it is. 20 seconds later we are saying out goodbyes. As I walk home I think about those furtive first ones and wonder what all the fuss was about. Did we really feel we were doing something so terrible? So naughty? It all feels so mundane now somehow. Just popping out, get the can, hold the template, quick spray and Bob's your uncle. Tonight we didn't even wait til the passersby had disappeared. Just did it there by that tree just opposite where the corner shop guys were hanging around, smoking and talking. Is this the Advent experience? That the waiting, the journey, just becomes part of normal life. Or am I not leaving space for this to sink in, not giving time for reflection and thought about it? Has it become just something we do each night which doesn't really touch anything else?

When we got back B&B are still sitting in our lounge drinking whisky. 'Where do the stars lead then?' she says. 'Erm. Nowhere really,' I find myself replying.