Nineteen

Lynda's turn again tonight...

'What inspired this one?' She asks as I step off the ladder into the path of an oncoming 242 to take a picture. I admitted that I'd been so excited by the stars-in-a-tyre idea that, for the first time since (showing my age here) O level art I drew out some ideas in a little black book. We'd spoken about using tule and nothing pleases me more than an excuse to buy bright fabrics and flourescent spray paint, so this was the natural end product. 

The baby star in the middle was a late addition and pays homage to a previous advent when we had lots of fun dreaming up all the different styles of star you can cut from milk cartons. 

Most schools break up tomorrow. I've been to four Christmas concerts in 3 days. This year I'm more of a mess than usual. Crying at other people's children's contribution, as well as my own, is a new low/high. My own, naturally, make me weep and I'm torn between catching it forever on my phone and drinking it in properly through my senses alone. An added bitter sweetness this year is my increasing feeling of having older kids. Will Mr Middle do concerts at secondary school next year? How many more junior performances can I squeeze out of the youngest? Is this why people become Governors: they cannot bear a Christmas without kids in tinsel singing about the baby Jesus?

At the concert this afternoon the music teacher asked a girl to read out Malala Yousafzai's statement concerning the shootings in Peshawar. We observed a minute's silence to stand in solidarity, somehow, with those affected and to reflect on how, in many other parts of the world, there is little to celebrate. I'm sure that news has been there for me in the mix of emotions at the concerts. It is hard to comprehend what that would do to a community like ours. I can't imagine the pain and sadness and rage they are experiencing. But it was good, at least for a minute in all the froth, to stop and think about it.