The Curious Case Of People Who Read Christmas Blogs In March

As the first quarter of the year draws to a close, I’m somewhat surprised that people are still viewing a series of blogs I posted at Christmas – imaginatively entitled ‘The 12 Blogging Questions of Christmas’. Are people accidentally stumbling across these posts or are there folk out there who just can’t abide parting with the festive period? To them, every day is Christmas Day.

These are the people who still have their Christmas decorations up and who binge watch Hallmark Christmas movies which all have the same plot and, more often than not, the same cast of jobbing actors. Their fridge never runs low on cranberry sauce and you can be guaranteed a glass of eggnog if you drop round to politely complain about the constant Michael Buble soundtrack pumping through the speakers.

April Fools Day is just around the corner and I must be ever vigilant against the hatchlings who will be queuing up to make a fool of their clueless father. Is the assault on my Christmas blogs an early strike on their part? It’s another theory to consider as the daily viewing of them continues. Are Santa and his big eared helpers starting early this year? Has the Easter Bunny downed tools and gone on strike?

I will continue to monitor this startling situation and keep you all updated in the weeks and months ahead. You’re welcome, it’s the least I can do. For it’s only 270 days until the big day again and you can never be too organised. Why wait when you can dive waist deep into Yuletide themed blogs written by some strange bloke from Northern Ireland. Watch this space, people.

Why do people read Christmas themed blogs in March?

The 12 Blogging Questions Of Christmas – Day 12 – What Are Your Blogging Plans For 2019?

To be totally honest with you, this themed series has been a bit of a slog at times. You see, I haven’t really been able to write about a lot of stuff, other than er….Christmas. And there’s only so much I can come up with about food, elves and all things ho ho ho. So I’m kind of glad that today is Day 12 and normal service can be resumed. Or as normal as this blog can ever be.

The upside is I have lots of topics and ideas stockpiled that I intend to unleash upon you over the coming weeks and months. I hope for 2019 to be a big year and that you will stick around to discover what lies around the corner. Thank you for enduring this series and here’s the 12th, and thankfully final, Blogging Question of Christmas – What are your blogging plans for 2019?

The 12 Blogging Questions Of Christmas – Day 11 – Is It Over Yet?

I know Christmas isn’t everyone’s cup of tea. Some people dislike the increasing commercialism of the festive period, while for others it brings back painful memories. There are empty seats around the dinner table. Some are going through despair and tragedy. Christmas is an unwanted distraction, something they could do without. Many cannot wait until it ends and normality can return. Or as normal as life will ever be.

I’m mindful of this as I progress through this festive series. I’ve been delighted by the response and that so many of you are having a great time with friends and family. But when do you call it a day? Or you itching to take the tree down on Boxing Day? Sick of turkey sandwiches by New Years Day? Or a traditionalist who squeezes every last drop out of the 12 Days of Christmas.

When does Christmas end for you?

The 12 Blogging Questions Of Christmas – Day 10 – Are You Having A White Christmas?

Happy Christmas from snowy Northern Ireland!!!

Except it’s not snowing. In fact, it’s not even cold. Rather, it’s unseasonably mild. 12 degrees centigrade no less. It’s grey and drizzly naturally, but there will be no sleigh rides or snowball fights here this year. The coldest thing I’ve experienced has been the four litre tub of honeycomb ice cream dived into following Christmas dinner. Yes, you read that right. Four litres. I’m hardcore when it comes to my ice cream.

So as I sit here, slipping in and out of a self enforced food coma, I’m left wondering what’s the weather like where you are? Is it a Christmas card scene with seven foot snowdrifts and conifers heavily laden with the white stuff? Or does it just look like any other day? Are you on the beach? On top of a mountain? In a cave? Wherever you are, I hope you are having a great day.

What’s the weather like on Christmas Day where you are?

The 12 Blogging Questions Of Christmas – Day 9 – What Last Minute Shopping Are You Doing?

Fionnuala is super organised when it comes to Christmas. When it comes to most matters, really. But it’s inevitable there are always a few last minute purchases to be made on Christmas Eve. Today was no exception. I was dispatched to source Christmas crackers. There was no joy in our village shop, which resembled the American evacuation of Hanoi. It was akin to one of those supermarket scenes you see in zombie movies. Every man, woman and child for themselves.

Onwards to the next village. When I asked the shop assistant if they stocked crackers she stared at me blankly until I clarified ‘Christmas, as opposed to the edible variety.’ She giggled, before cheerily announcing they were sold out, and directing me to an even tinier shop on the outskirts of the village. So tiny, that I thought it had closed down years ago. I often run past it, and it rarely shows any signs of life. But desperate times call for desperate measures.

Shop Number Three most accurately resembled a shack, opposite an equally derelict petrol station. Parking outside it, I half expected to be greeted by a grizzled hillbilly bearing a double barrelled shotgun. ‘We don’t get many strangers round these parts’, prior to yours truly disappearing and my body never being found. So I was semi relieved to be greeted by a pleasant middle aged lady when I entered. Not a skin mask to be seen.

Relief soon turned to disappointment, however, as she informed me that, lo and behold, they had also sold out of Christmas crackers. I returned home empty handed. I don’t even like them anyway. Who needs toe curling jokes and cheap, plastic toys? The paper hats never fit my meaty head and invariably rip, leaning me looking stupider than ever. Plus they leave a mess and I’m usually the one who has to clear up after the kids. Bah humbug, I say.

What last minute Christmas item are you running around after today?

What Christmas ‘necessity’ could you live without?

The 12 Blogging Days Of Christmas – Day 7 – What Is Your Favourite Christmas Food?

Fionnuala was up at the crack of dawn this morning to hit the supermarket for the traditional pre-Christmas big food shop. At the mention of food, Adam leapt out of bed to accompany her. If only he could be roused so easily on a school morning. Rebecca also joined them, but I remained in bed due to my continuing illness. Even climbing the stairs is hard work at the minute, let alone battling through the festive hordes.

Next thing I knew, it was 10:30 a.m. and they back, laden down with bags of shopping. I can’t remember the last time I slept so late. I stumbled down the stairs to find the kitchen table, laden down with all manner of treats. Foods that we only ever get at Christmas. My favourites are always the various cheeses, crackers and pates. Last year the girls and I set up a cheese society to sample the various produce.

Have you done your Christmas food shopping yet? Or are you a last minute.com person? Perhaps you stick to the same foods all the year around and Christmas is no different? Share your comments below and I’ll read them later, while eating a mince pie or three.

The 12 Blogging Questions Of Christmas – Day 6 – What Do You Believe In?

Sixteen years ago today, Fionnuala made one of the worst decisions of her life. She married me! I’m joking…..I think. Since then, we have had our ups and downs, but we are still together and facing all the world has to throw at us. We have been blessed with three wonderful kids, and I’m looking forward to finishing work today and spending five (yes five) days off, in their company.

I won’t be running over the Christmas break, due to illness, so hope to spend as much time as possible lounging on the sofa watching Christmas movies and observing the ongoing chaos all around me. I don’t deserve my wife and kids, but I have them anyway. They are always there to support me, be it in my work, my writing, or my running. They believe in me, so I must be doing something right.

Christmas is all about belief. For the kids, it can be whether or not the big guy in the red suit exists and, if so, are you on the good or naughty list. For others, it can be whether or not the Son of God arrived over 2000 Christmases ago, or is that nothing more than an elaborate fairytale. We all need to believe in something. For if we don’t believe in something, then we’ll fall for anything.

What do you believe in?

Who believes in you?

The 12 Blogging Questions Of Christmas – Day 4 – What Is Your Favourite Christmas Movie?

I saw a poll on the news this morning which announced the most popular Christmas movie of all time was ‘It’s A Wonderful Life’. It beat ‘Elf’ to the top spot which pleased me no end. If there’s one thing in life I can’t get my head around it’s the love affair people have with Will Ferrell running around New York in a pair of green tights. I don’t find it funny and I don’t find it moving. Zooey Deschanel can’t even save it.

Today’s Christmas question is simply – ‘What is Your Favourite Christmas Movie.’ For me, it’s got to be ‘Home Alone.’ Closely followed by ‘Die Hard.’ And I don’t care what you say, Bruce Willis running around a skyscraper in a vest shooting foreign actors may not be your festive cup of tea, but I’m including it as a Christmas movie. Yippy Yay Aye and all that to you too. I digress. Leave your comments below.

What Is Your Favourite Christmas Movie?

The 12 Blogging Questions Of Christmas – Day Three – What’s Your Favourite Breakfast?

The Boss took us all out for breakfast this morning. He does this as a thank you to the team for all the hard work they put in during the year. It’s a lovely gesture, even though I feel like a stuffed pig at the minute. Why? Well, I’m glad you asked. For wouldn’t you feel the same if you had just consumed this.

For those of you not educated in the finer delicacies of Irish cuisine, it’s called an ‘Ulster Fry.’ Sausage, bacon, fried egg, tomato, black pudding, potato bread and soda. With a side order of toast and all washed down with a pot of tea. I can barely stand, let alone type.

Which leads me onto today’s question. What is your favourite breakfast? What fuels you up for the day ahead? Is it a belly buster like I’ve just consumed? Or do you prefer a healthier option? Porridge? Yoghurt? Grapefruit? Or what about last nights takeaway heated up in the microwave?

What is your favourite breakfast?

The 12 Blogging Questions of Christmas – Day 2 – Why Do You Blog?

Good evening from blustery Northern Ireland. Thank you to everyone who took part yesterday. Some great suggestions. Today I’m going to revert to the topic of blogging, and why we do it. Some of us are frequent bloggers, others less so, but we all share a love of the written word. Getting our thoughts out there and sharing them with the big, bad world.

The question is simple.

The answer possibly less so.

Why do you blog?

The 12 Blogging Questions Of Christmas – What Was Your Favourite Book Of 2018?

Blogging is all about interaction and community. During the course of 2018 I have stumbled across all kinds of varied, interesting people. All with relevant and inspiring stories. I’m hoping to find, and interact with, many more in 2019 and beyond. To encourage this intent, I’m going to run a festive themed blog series over the next twelve days which I have imaginatively titled…..cue drum roll……

The 12 Questions of Christmas!!!

Catchy, huh?

Each day I will ask a question. All you have to do is comment and engage with other like minded bloggers. Who knows, your new blogging best friend could be out there just waiting to hear from you. The Lennon to your McCartney, the Simon to your Garfunkel, the Sonny to your Cher. Okay then, maybe not the last one, but you get my drift.

So, without further ado, here’s today’s question.

What’s the best book you read in 2018 and why?

For me, it has to be ‘Eleanor Oliphant is Completely Fine’ by Gail Honeyman. Startlingly original. Dark, funny, quirky, heart wrenching. Just a few of the words to describe the debut novel which stood head and shoulders over anything else on my Kindle. With honourable mentions to ‘Dark Places’ by Gillian Flynn and ‘Bonfire’ by Krysten Ritter. Anyway, enough of me. Over to you….

I Don’t Believe in Santa Claus But….

For the first time since the year of our Lord 2002, Santa Claus is not coming to our house this Christmas. The hatchlings are all grown up so the Big Man is going to give chez Black a miss and leave it to their long suffering parents to ‘deliver the goods’ come the 25th. He will be missing out on his mince pie and glass of Diet Coke and Rudolph will have to go elsewhere for his carrot and bowl of water.

This hasn’t impacted, however, upon the current level of excitement in the house, especially amongst the girls. I have already sat through ‘The Christmas Chronicles’ with Kurt Russell four times, and the decorations went up well over a week ago. And are still going up. Despite Fionnuala’s insistence that this would be a more low key Christmas, every time I leave the house I return to find another wreath or set of lights in situ.

On Friday night, Rebecca and her friends went to their old school for the switching on of the Christmas tree lights. As self confessed ‘big girls’ at Junior High, they sniggered knowingly when informed that Santa Claus and his elves would be there for all the younger kids. They made me drop them off down the road from the school itself, to avoid the embarrassment of being dropped off by an adult human being.

The same applied to being picked up. They phoned through a rendezvous point where I waited patiently, until they graced me with their company. As they piled into the car, giggling and nattering, I raised an eyebrow in surprise. Both of them were clutching selection boxes, yet I knew there was no shop at the school and neither of them had any money on them. Hmmmmm….

Me: ‘Where did you get the selection boxes?’

Them: ‘Santa.’

Cue further giggling. It seemed that, despite their avowed intent to no longer write Father Christmas letters, they had no problem with playing along if there was free chocolate on the table. Twelve year old girls can be brutal. Oh, to have their moral compass, I mused, as they proceeded to demolish the contents of their dubiously acquired boxes in front of me. Santa Claus had been played, and I was an unwitting accomplice to this heinous crime.

Just as I was about to clamber upon my metaphorical high horse and deliver a lecture about integrity and values, I thought to myself – ‘They’re twelve year old girls. What’s your excuse?’ How many times had I said one thing, then acted in a way that suggested the complete opposite. I stick to my principles when it suits me, then chuck them out the window when I see an opportunity that addresses my own selfish needs.

Behaving in a consistent manner is hard work. I like to think I’m solid in that respect, but the truth is I can do so much better. It might not be chocolate boxes, but it’s so easy to rip up your belief system and chuck it in the bin when you’re faced with an easier option, a more tempting alternative. And before you know it, you are surrounded by empty wrappers and your face is smeared in tell tale chocolate.

Is Santa Claus coming to your house this Christmas?

When did you last say one thing and then did the complete opposite?

How do you stick to your beliefs and values?

It’s 23 November….Happy Christmas!

HAPPY CHRISTMAS!

Er….okay. I realise it’s not even December yet, but Fionnuala and I buckled to pressure from our daughters today. Hannah has already been watching Christmas movies for several weeks, and was belting out festive tunes this morning in the car. It was only a matter of time before I was dispatched to the roof space, armed only with a shaky stepladder and a wonky head torch which has seen better days.

Every January I vow to put away the Christmas decorations in an orderly, systematic manner so that the following December, or mid November, I can easily retrieve them without sustaining a hernia in the process. And every January, they get haphazardly hurled into the pitch black void and forgotten about for the next twelve months. Do I ever learn my lesson? No, I do not.

There follows the traditional sight of yours truly stumbling about in the darkness, muttering and mumbling at the grievous injustice of it all. I wrestle with artificial trees, hunt down recalcitrant Santa figures and roller skate on stray baubles, my arms flailing like windmills as I struggle to stay upright and avoid an unscheduled visit to Accident & Emergency. The joy of Christmas. No. Not ever.

This year’s frolics were enhanced by being on call. There is no more bizarre feeling than conducting high powered telephone conversations while balancing precariously ten feet off the ground in pyjama bottom, a tatty hoodie and several garlands of tinsel. Please do not tell my bosses any of the above. Christmas on the unemployment queue would not go down very well with Fionnuala and the hatchlings.

My efforts were not in vain, however. While I was lurching from one calamity to the next, Fionnuala and the kids were assembling the masterpiece below. I take no credit whatsoever for it, as my wife is undoubtedly the brains and beauty of our marriage. Her innovation and imagination when it comes to all things creative, never fails to amaze me. I can barely tie my own shoe laces.

So, Christmas has arrived at chez Black, and not before time. As ever, ours is the first tree up in the street this year. That said, Fionnuala has vowed we will be scaling down the decorations this time around. No seven foot inflatable Homer Simpson Santa’s in the front garden and NASA will not be able to see our house from space. The plus side is we won’t have a five figure electricity bill to look forward to in January.

You may share in our early festive spirits. You too, may be breaking out the mince pies and binge watching endless Christmas movies which all have the same plot; successful business type who hates Christmas returns to their home town, only to fall in love with their high school sweetheart (eventually) and, in doing so, discover the true meaning of Christmas. Tell me I’m wrong?

I promise not to blog about Christmas again until at least 01 December. Although, that may be a lie. Now excuse me while I extricate myself from the roof space. I’ve been up here for hours, my head torch is fading and I’m starting to get hungry. If I’m not back on here tomorrow can someone contact the emergency services. Or at the very least, lob a few mince pies in my direction.

When does Christmas start in your house?

Who puts the decorations up in your home?

Where is the strangest place you’ve taken a phone call?

Why do all Christmas movies have the same plot?

It’s 100 Days Til Christmas

Fionnuala thoughtfully reminded me this evening that it was a mere 100 days until Christmas. I think it was her not so subtle way of warning me it was now open season as far as festive preparations went. I fully expect to return home later this week to find a 12 foot inflatable Santa staring at me from across the front garden. Daring me to suggest it might be a teensy weensy bit early for this sort of thing.

I have so much to look forward to….

Firstly there’s the unmitigated joy of the annual visit to the attic in order to retrieve the Christmas decorations. Every year, I vow to put them away in a tidy, systematic order so that when it comes to retrieving them the following year I am not required to undergo a three day voyage into the darkest corners of the roof space. And every year I don’t and end up undergoing a three day voyage into blah blah blah.

Then there’s the Christmas movie channel. Hundreds upon hundreds of made for television ‘classics’ which all essentially have the same plot. A hard nosed, ambitious business woman returns to her home town for some tenuous reason only to have her heart melted by her high school love. She falls in love all over again and the true meaning of Christmas triumphs over corporate greed. The end.

I begin hating these movies but then end up transfixed, even though I know how it will end. They always look like they were filmed in August and feature actors who once appeared in three episodes of that Netflix show you binge watched the previous March. You know….thingy. Meaghan Markle even popped up in one last year. Before Suits and hooking up with Prince Harry.

Yes, the countdown is well and truly on at chez Black. Before too long, we will be inundated with Advent calendars, turkey sandwiches and songs about Italian donkeys. Hannah also informed us that it is 210 days until she sees Shaun Mendes in concert in Dublin. She even has a countdown clock on her phone. I think she’s a little bit excited and could possibly self combust when the day of the show finally arrives.

We love having dates and events to look forward to; how many of us live for the weekend; our precious summer holidays or countless other islands of excitement in our otherwise drab existences. It can be a sporting event, a movie release or yearning to see a loved one after a too long absence. We monitor the days, weeks and months. We are literally wishing our lives away.

We don’t want the here and now, we are always looking forward and ahead. We can’t wait and our impatience cannot be contained. I want it all and I want it now. We are spoilt children continually throwing tantrums in order to get our own way. Becoming blinded to the beauty surrounding us, such is the clamour to escape it and stare wistfully over the horizon towards the next big thing.

It is positive and healthy to have targets, goals, events to look forward to. But not to the extent that we devalue and gloss over 364 days of the year, for the sake of a 24 hour window of mince pies and jolly, bearded old men in red suits. Every day is precious and we should strive to squeeze every last drop of life out of it. We take our lives for granted at times. We need to cherish each day. For it could be our last.

Are you wishing your life away?

Are you counting the days to Christmas? Or another big event?

How focused are you on today?

Slam

Happy Christmas Eve everyone!

I hope you are all looking forward to spending the holiday period with family and friends. AFracturedFaithBlog will be taking Christmas Day off as there is much present unwrapping and food consumption ahead of us. I’m particularly excited about that little pest Elfie the Elf returning to the North Pole. I’ll be writing Santa a strongly worded e-mail about his antics in our house these last few weeks.

Fionnuala, the kids and myself will also be thinking about those less fortunate than ourselves this Christmas. It can be a sad and lonely time for many and our thoughts and prayers will be with those who need them most. Amidst the excitement and merriment we will also be remembering the first Christmas over 2000 years ago when a scared, heavily pregnant teenage girl and a tired, penniless young man trudged into Bethlehem desperate for a roof over their heads for the night.

The village was packed to the seams, however, given the upcoming census. The scene must have been chaotic with people and animals scurrying through the packed streets. Joseph had many doors slammed in his face that night and eventually had to desperately accept a smelly, dirty stable. Beggars can’t be choosers right? At least it was dry and Mary had somewhere to rest and recover from the arduous journey they had undertaken from Nazareth. No such luck. There followed a painful and uncomfortable night which culminated in the birth of their first son.

They called him Jesus. He would grow up to change the world.

He had every right to grow up with a chip on his shoulder. Born into squalor and poverty his formative years were lived as an immigrant on the run from a bloodthirsty Herod before the family could return from Egypt to Nazareth. He worked hard learning his trade as a carpenter but when he launched his ministry around the age of thirty he faced three years of verbal and physical abuse, betrayal, rejection and endless mocking. All the way to the Cross. He knew a bit about doors being slammed in his face. Not to mention hearts and minds.

His response to a lifetime of this was as follows:

John 14:2-3: ‘My Father’s house has many rooms; if that were not so would I have told you that I am going there to prepare a place for you. And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come back and take you to be with me that you may also be where I am.’

Jesus and his family deserved better that night in Bethlehem. SLAM.

He deserved better than the life he led culminating in a brutal, humiliating death on the Cross. SLAM.

We lie. We cheat. We covet. We mock. We steal. We sin again and again and again. We laugh in his face. We don’t deserve better.

He opens his door and welcomes us with open arms.

Matthew 11:28-30 – ‘Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light.’

He turned his back on nobody, even though this was all he knew his entire life. A turned back is a lost opportunity. A slammed door is a full stop on relationships and friendships that do not have to end. If he can do it then so can you. So can I.

My hope and prayer this Christmas is that you fling open your doors, hearts and minds to the world. To a broken world that sorely needs you.

Happy Christmas from Stephen, Fionnuala and the kids.

Death By Cupcake

The Black Family hit Belfast’s Christmas Market yesterday afternoon. As you can see this involved food, food and more food. I took some pictures but, ever since, have barely been able to move given the ginormous burger and cupcake I consumed. I am currently lying in a darkened room and normal blogging duties will be resumed shortly.

Fionnuala created this wonderful collage. She’s the talented one in case you hadn’t worked that out yet. There’s also a few of our wedding photos from 15 years ago.

All I Want For Christmas….

Fionnuala and I celebrate our 15th wedding anniversary today. We have decided this year not to buy each other presents but instead are going later this afternoon as a family to the Christmas Market in Belfast. I’ll be blogging about that adventure later so stay tuned for photos of the Black family there. Probably eating. A lot.

Fionnuala loves to sing. I don’t particularly love to hear Fionnuala sing but that has never stopped her before. She also loves Christmas so the house has been rocking all month to her festive soundtracks. One of her party pieces is her variation of the Mariah Carey classic ‘All I Want For Christmas Is You’. Fionnuala, instead belts out ‘All I Want For Christmas Is Glueeeeeeee’. I’m not quite sure what this means but, anyway, the kids find it hilarious.

Fionnuala is our glue. She has held this family together for many years. She has fixed broken relationships and hearts. It has been sticky and messy at times but she has persevered and overcome every adversity thrown her path. When I was broken she could have shovelled up the pieces and thrown me in the bin. Instead she held me together until I mended. She fixed me. She healed me.

She is the unsung hero of the family. She deserves so much yet asks for so little. She has a heart the size of Ireland and would fight to the death for her family. She would give her last penny to someone in need. Whereas I talk and write she acts. She gets stuff done by hook or by crook. She organises, budgets, schedules, never stops. She brings her A-game 24/7 even when she is tired or sick. She always puts others needs before her own.

She is kind, wise and beautiful. The latter on the outside but, more importantly, on the inside. She puts up with the insanity of being married to me. Without her there would be no me. She is my best friend and is always there for me. Even though I drive her insane on a daily basis. She often tells me that she wanted a husband and not a fourth child. She also says that the world doesn’t revolve around me. I know that now. For the kids and I are mere planets. She is our sun.

She provides the light, heat and energy that we need to survive. We orbit her and rely upon her. She is indefatigable, indestructible and invincible. She never gives up on us and is the driving force behind all the stories and messages on this blog. She is as perfectly simple as I am imperfectly complicated. She loves God and she loves her family and friends. She is my gravity, keeping me firmly rooted to the ground whenever I start to drift off on flights of fancy.

I can’t give you expensive presents this year, Fionnuala, but I can give you my thanks and my heart. You are my wife and my best friend. You are my everything. I love you. Happy anniversary.

Little Sacks of Joy

As I mentioned yesterday this Christmas I’m trying to do more homemade gifts, decorations and scents and after the success of my Christmas Pot Pourri, which by the way, you can get a second day out of it just keep filling it up with water, today it was the gifts for teachers, class room assistants and therapists.

Normally I would buy tins of sweets or biscuits for these gifts which would cost us £60/£70 but not this year ‘Frugal Fionnuala’ is doing things differently and getting Hannah and Rebecca busy at making delicious shortbread. I was out shopping with my mum a few weeks ago and bought little jute sacks which I thought would be perfect for this task and they were a bargain at only £1.99 for three sacks. The girls finish school for Christmas break on Wednesday so the latest the baking could be done was today.

When the boys went to rugby this morning we got to work. The recipe for Short bread is as follows:

This should make 30 pieces of shortbread

250g plain flour

1/4 teaspoon of salt

1/4 teaspoon baking powder

225g butter

100g caster sugar

  1. Preheat oven to 170 C
  2. In a large bowl beat the butter and sugar together until light and fluffy. Sift together the flour, salt and baking powder and add to the butter and sugar and mix to combine into the dough
  3. Wrap the dough in cling film and chill in the fridge for 10 mins.
  4. On a lightly floured surface roll the dough out and cut into whichever shapes you wish and place on baking trays
  5. Bake in a preheated oven for 10/15 mins

When the shortbread had cooled down we placed 12 pieces in a clear sandwich bag and sealed it with some Christmas ribbon. We then but the bags in the jute sacks which Adam named ‘Little Sacks of Joy’

The girls really enjoyed making these for their teachers and can’t wait to go to school on Monday which also means there should be no mysterious illness or sickness come over them bedtime tomorrow night.

What gifts do you send into school for teachers?

Fionnuala 💕

Homemade Christmas with Love

It is no secret that Christmas is hands down my favourite time of year. I could watch Christmas films from 1st January to 31st December. I love the smells that fill the house – cinnamon, ginger, fresh pine and the turkey and stuffing cooking in the oven. I love the cold weather bonus if it snows. I love the shops at Christmas, the music and the wrapping of presents. I love Christmas Eve when the kids are bathed and in their new jammies; excitement buzzing round the house, counting down the hours until Christmas morning. So yes I’m Christmas’ biggest fan.

After the year we have had as a family I am so thankful that we are spending this Christmas as a united family and not a broken one and intend to make good, happy lasting memories for the kids and hopefully start new family traditions that they can continue with their own children.

This Christmas I’m doing things differently and am having a go at making gifts, decorations and home made baking. I’ve watched enough Christmas films in my life so think I should be able to fully succeed at this one.

Tomorrow myself and the girls will be baking homemade shortbread to give out as gifts to their teachers and classroom assistants. We had a trial run last weekend and Stephen and Adam devoured the lot. Today I made Christmas stove top Pot Pourri and the smell throughout the house is amazing and through doing that I decided I would share some of my creations with you all throughout the week.

To make this Christmas Pot Pourri you need:

2 cups of fresh cranberries

3 sticks of cinnamon

1 teaspoon of cloves

3 nectarines quartered or halved

1 inch piece of fresh ginger

1 cup of cranberry juice

1 small piece of fresh pine

Put all the ingredients into a saucepan and cover with water. Bring to the boil and reduce temperature to simmer; remember to keep topping up with water as needed. I would normally burn a lot of cinnamon candles this time of year so this is a new favourite for me.

If you make this let me know what you think of it and if you have any other homemade creations I could have a go at let me know.

Fionnuala 💕

Have You Been Naughty Or Nice This Year?

At this time of the year children all around the world unite and traditionally engage in the damage limitation exercise known as ‘The Naughty Or Nice List’. Wherein they attempt to rectify eleven months of misbehaviour and disobedience by falling over themselves to perform household chores, which they had blissfully ignored for the rest of the year, and suck up to their parents in any way possible in the hope that, come Christmas morning, they won’t be waking up to a whole lot of nothing.

‘Santa has been watching and knows if you have been naughty or nice’ we proclaim sternly in the vain hope that it will spur them on to tidy their pits (I mean bedrooms), bring down their dirty washing (before it walks down the stairs itself) and solve the age old conundrum of where have all the cups gone (I believe Rebecca hold the current record of having five on her bedside table at the same time).

All I can say is that Father Christmas must be the most naive magical being alive as he falls for it every year. 360 days of utter chaos in the Black household are wiped off the slate by a few half hearted attempts to wash the dishes and put the bins out. Getting them to dry and put away the dishes or bring said bins back into the yard is a whole different blog. Despite all this gullible old Santa falls hook, line and sinker for this pre-pubescent ‘hearts and minds’ offensive every year and duly delivers the goods on Christmas Eve.

If only real life was like that. If only we could wave a magic wand and undo all the mistakes and bad choices we have made this year. If only we could turn back the clock and undo those harsh words we spoke, erase those impure thoughts we had or reverse the many selfish actions we undertook . If only we could be ‘nice’ for the next few days and forget about the many other ‘naughty’ days we have clocked up throughout our lives.

I intensely dislike the word nice. It’s a nothing word. My old English teacher said it was the laziest word in the English language. Naughty isn’t much better. But I suppose it’s only kids after all so doesn’t really apply to us larger humans who supposedly do the ‘adulting’ stuff. Why be naughty when you can be nasty, cruel, spiteful or just plain old mean. That’s more up our street isn’t it. And when you develop a mindset which regards these as second nature then it’s a long road back.

Unfortunately we don’t have Santa Claus to turn a blind eye to our faults and failings. Which placed me on a sticky wicket when I hit rock bottom a few years ago. He was nowhere to be seen. Not a reindeer or an elf in sight. I had no other option but to rely on my fractured faith which I had neglected for many years. I started reading my Bible and trying to practically follow the teachings of Jesus on a daily basis. I know not everyone who reads this blog believes in Jesus any more that they believe in Santa Claus; all I can say is that it worked for me.

I’m far from perfect. There have been many hiccups along the way. I screw up on a regular basis. I can do SO much better. But I hope that I’m getting there a step at a time. No disrespect to the Big Man with the red suit and beard but Jesus is the main event at Christmas for me this year. And no matter how ‘naughty’ you have been he can wipe the slate clean and offers you the same opportunity to start again on the ‘nice’ list. All you have to do in return?

Believe. Trust. Follow. The choice is yours.

Isaiah 9:6 – ‘For unto us a Child is born, Unto us a Son is given; And the government will be upon His shoulder. And his name will be called Wonderful, Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.’

Have you been naughty or nice this year?

Do you follow Jesus? Are you curious? Or do you think it’s just a festive myth? I’d be keen to hear your views. Comment below.

Elf Hath No Fury

I appreciate that some of my subject matter can be quite dark and depressing at times but today’s post marks a new low. I apologise in advance to the more fainted hearted of you but this story has to be told.

We have a thief in our midst.

When Rebecca told me she wanted to bring home an elf this Christmas I was initially excited. I was thinking Cate Blanchett, Liv Tyler or Evangeline Lily.

But no I got Elfy the Elf….

Since then he has wreaked havoc. And I give you….

Day 1

Day 2

But much, much worse was to follow.

He had to take it a step too far. He drank all my Diet Coke. You don’t want to meet Stephen without Diet Coke. He’s like The Hulk. Except I’m not green. And don’t have his muscles. But apart from that. Literally identical.

Day 3

This means war on the elves. I shall be raising an army of orcs forthwith and descending from Mordor upon Elfy and his kin. They can expect no mercy when, on my command, hell is unleashed.

They shall not pass….

*Elf & Safety Footnote – No elves were harmed during the making of this blog post. So far *

Are you suffering an infestation of elves this Christmas?

What is your favourite LOTR race? Hobbits? Dwarves? Elves? Orcs? Ents?!?!

Happy Christmas Even Though It’s Still November

Like General Custer at the Little Big Horn I had fought long and heroically against overwhelming odds but had reached the point where I realised I was hopelessly outnumbered and defeat was inevitable. My only saving grace was that my opponents were slightly less bloodthirsty than Crazy Horse and his war braves. I raised the white flag and surrendered to Fionnuala and the girls. Yes I am going to get the Christmas decorations out of the attic later today.

Over the last few weeks they have gradually worn me down utilising a series of subtle and not so subtle psychological operations that would not have have looked out of place at CIA Headquarters. Pulling on my heartstrings one moment and then threatening to throttle me with them the next. These ladies could teach Jason Bourne a trick or two. The women of the Black household put the Black into Black Ops.

Our attic is akin to the Land that Time Forgot. Every time I reluctantly pop my head up there I fully expect to be dive bombed by a baby pterodactyl. Our step ladder is a step too short so in order to get into the attic I have to risk life and limb by teetering atop the top step and hauling myself up into the roof space itself. This involves contorting my body into positions that a man of my years was not designed to do. Before pulling down any Christmas decorations I invariably have to pull a few muscles first.

Gaining access to the attic is only Phase One of the operation however. I then have to battle through a minefield of bric-a-brac and discarded toys from years gone by in order to locate the boxes and bags containing the prized decorations themselves. With this bridgehead established I solider on, ignoring aching muscles I never knew I had, in order to haul the decorations down to the impatient little (and no so little ones) waiting below. Getting back down to terra firma is a whole blog post in itself but I’ll save that for another day.

With that my work is done as the more artistic and creative members of the family take over. If you were waiting for me to assemble and decorate a Christmas tree I would certainly have it ready for the big day; but by that I mean Easter as opposed to 25th December. Fionnuala loves all things Christmas and her enthusiasm has certainly rubbed off on Hannah and Rebecca. Before the end of the weekend we will have maintained our title of being the first house in the street with their decorations up. Bah Humbug I say to all our grinchy neighbours.

I want this Christmas to be a special time for us, as close to perfect as I can make it. A lot has happened since the decorations were put away last year. The same decorations may be coming out of the same attic this year but they are being put up within a different environment. This year they are being put up in a home as opposed to a house. This year we are going to celebrate Christmas as a family and look back on how far we have come these last twelve months. There have been ups and there have been downs; sometimes it has been one step forward, two steps back but we have made it. We are together and we are strong.

I wonder if Joseph and Mary felt the same as they looked down at their newborn baby boy all those years ago in that Bethlehem stable. They had just experienced a pretty crazy year (visitations from angels and miraculous pregnancies anyone?) and the birth itself was no exception. But, worried and exhausted as they no doubt were, they had battled through it and come out the other side, stronger than ever. A proper family. They trusted God and he guided them through the good times and the bad. He had a plan for both of them and they followed it to the letter, no matter what that entailed.

I hope I am following His plan too. The words have flowed this week and I am now 30000 words into my first novel. 30000 words that will require no end of polishing, trimming and reordering but I am excited by them and proud of them. I never realised I could run until I started running. Likewise I never realised I could write until I started writing. I have wasted so many years but I hope that period of my life is over. I want to follow His path now as nothing is impossible. We will enjoy this Christmas but if anything I’m more excited for what the year brings ahead for us as a family.

Now where did I put those stepladders?

When do your Christmas decorations go up?

Are you excited for 2018? What plans do you have?

I Believe In Unicorns 

Regular readers of the blog will have known that our youngest daughter, Rebecca, celebrated her 11th birthday a few days ago. The festivities have lasted the best part of a week culminating yesterday in a trip to the ‘Disney On Ice’ show in Belfast. There she was entertained by a flying Peter Pan, Ariel the Mermaid and Olaf the Snowman. And Fionnuala was horrified at paying £9 for a bucket of popcorn and a set of plastic Mickey Mouse ears. Let it go. Just let it go!

On Thursday night she had a pyjama/onesie party with her closest friends. And before anyone asks I don’t own a onesie and have no intention of ever owning one. What struck me at the party was the current unicorn craze amongst young girls. We have unicorn onesies, unicorn pillows, unicorn headphones. In fact anything you can think of. Unicorns are taking over the world. I had always thought it was going to be a zombie apocalypse that was going to end civilisation as we knew it. But I was wrong. It’s actually going to be unicorns.


I’m not sure if there were any unicorns on the Ark. But if there were then Noah’s journey on the waters would have undoubtedly been a much more enjoyable experience. Why? Because unicorns seem to bring joy and happiness wherever they appear. Just ask any little girl. Or perhaps the occasional boy. They are not just mythical flying horses with ice cream cones stuck to their foreheads. They symbolise hope and love and better times. They are a beacon of light in an otherwise bleak world. 

Nobody knows who came up with the idea of unicorns. Just like nobody knows exactly who came up with Father Christmas, The Tooth Fairy or the Easter Bunny. But they all play a central role in the lives of our little ones. We tell them the stories, perform the traditions and answer their million and one questions on the subjects. They are at the heart of many of our most treasured family memories. Until that terrible day when it stops. When they stop believing. And then all we can do is relive the memories until, hopefully, a few grandchildren appear and we can do it all over again. 

We place such emphasis on these mythical creatures. They bring joy to our homes. Yet do we place the same emphasis on God? Do we place Jesus at the centre of our homes?Is he pushed aside at Easter and Christmas in favour of six foot rabbits and men with white beards and dodgy fashion sense? For let’s face it, if it wasn’t for Jesus there would be no Easter or Christmas. And while some see him also as a make believe figure in this increasingly secular world, it is a recognised historical fact that a man called Jesus walked the earth two thousand years ago. Can’t say that about the Tooth Fairy can you?

The next hurdle is was he just that, a man, or was he more than that? Was he the son of God? The explosion of Christianity to topple the Roman Empire literally overnight would strongly suggest that there is more to it than meets the eye. But at the end of the day it all boils down to faith. Believing in the unseen; believing that there is more to life. Because we all desperately want to believe in that. Just like an expectant child charges down the stairs on Christmas morning. They believe they will be gifts behind that door. They believe it more than anything else.

Jesus came to earth and gave us the greatest gift of all; his life. He died for us and by giving up his life offered us eternal life. All he asks for in return is that we believe in him. We can learn a lot from children and Jesus encouraged his followers to display a child like belief. Because there is a better life. There is a future no matter how dark our present might appear. We just need to take His hand and dare to believe.

I’m not sure I believe in unicorns. But I believe in everything they stand for. Hope, love and joy. For those words are Jesus. And I believe in him.

John 14:1 – ‘Do not let your hearts be troubled. You believe in God; believe also in me.’

Do you believe in Jesus?

How would you describe your relationship with him?

What mythical creature did you love as a child?

The Unlikely Angel

As we have now reached mid-October it makes perfect sense that the Christmas movie channel is now showing at chez Black on a 24 hour loop. Personally I’ve always been a ‘Christmas begins on 1st December’ kind of guy but, as with most matters in our house, I am heavily outnumbered. Yes, Christmas has officially begun.

Heavy hints have already been dropped that I am due a visit to the attic to bring down the Christmas decorations; Santa lists have been drawn up with FIFA 18 featuring heavily; and I’m convinced I saw a packet of mince pies in the cupboard the other day. Fionnuala is already plotting and planning the highlight of her year and has brainwashed (I mean) encouraged the girls to join her in loving all things festive.


99% of the aforementioned Christmas movies are American produced. In fact it strikes me that somewhere in the United States a Christmas movie is always being filmed. They always feature actors I have never heard of who appear to make a perfectly good living starring in movies that nobody has ever heard of. They invariably are romantic comedies set in small town mid-America. Everybody has good teeth. They always have happy endings and Santa never gets stuck up the chimney.

Today was a little different. I was ‘treated’ to ‘An Unlikely Angel’ starring Dolly Parton, one of Fionnuala’s childhood heroes. My wife was in Heaven which, oddly enough, is where Dolly ends up in the movie after a car crash featuring a deer and some decidedly dodgy stunt work. Next scene she’s walking through the pearly gates which just about accommodate her NFL-esque shoulder pads and a hairstyle which must have taken scaffolding and a gallon of hairspray to construct.

Dolly hooks up with a rather odd looking man in a white suit who may have been St. Peter or, at the very least, a pretty senior angel. Michael. Or possibly Gabriel. He basically rips up millennia of theological doctrines by explaining to an understandably bewildered Dolly that in order to remain a permanent fixture amongst the clouds she needed to make amends for her decidedly unsaintly existence by returning to earth as a trainee angel in order to perform good deeds and earn her season ticket to the afterlife.

It was at this point that I gave up and decided to go for my morning run. But the title got me thinking. Some of you may believe in angels and are convinced that they walk unseen amongst us; that they are permanently engaged in spiritual warfare against demonic forces in the battle between good and evil. Others might think this the stuff of fairy tales and place angels in the same box along with leprechauns and The Abominable Snowman.

Whatever your beliefs there is nothing stopping you displaying angelic qualities today to someone in need of help. It can be the smallest of acts. A little kindness goes a long way. Just open your eyes and look around. There is someone right now close to you who will benefit from your angelic intervention. It will brighten up their day and, guess what, you will feel a whole lot better about yourself afterwards as well. It might not get you into Heaven but it is sprinkling a little heavenly love on the life of someone desperately in need of a little love and grace. 

The best bit is that doing the above doesn’t require any specialist training. You don’t need qualifications in low level flying or advanced harp playing. Allergy to feathers? No problem. White isn’t your colour? We can work around that. Feel you’re not good enough and that your chequered past doesn’t make you eligible for the position? Worry not. God isn’t bothered so why should you? No matter what your past you can turn your back on it and do good today. 

Become an unlikely angel today. Backcombed hair, huge shoulder pads and rhinestone sequins entirely optional.

When does Christmas officially start in your house?

What are the best/worst Christmas movies you have ever watched?

Do you believe in angels?

Santa’s Last Summer 

Our youngest daughter, Rebecca, has had a very busy summer. There have been cinema outings, trips to the seaside and lots of visits to her grandparents. She has covered countless miles playing football and riding her bike. And she has eaten superhuman quantities of Haribo, bubble gum ice cream and other sugary treats. She has been a very busy young lady indeed.

One activity, however, has formed a consistent theme throughout her holiday break. Her letter to Santa Claus. Because one can never start soon enough and why wait until the last moment (say mid-September) when you can have it all done and dusted now. The ‘Big Man’ will be busy enough come December so best to get your order in early.

And what an order. The Normandy beach landings required less planning and preparations. There have been drafts and redrafts as she has waded through a forest of paper in order to pen the perfect letter. Parental advice and approval has been sought at all stages of the editing process. Accompanied by drawings, screenshots and countless WhatsApp conversations she has studiously chiselled away at her Christmas list which unfortunately weighed in at £150 over budget first time round. 

I anticipate Rebecca will be a qualified accountant by the time she is 12. She is a financial mastermind. Constantly conjuring money out of nowhere in order to finance her jet set lifestyle. If there is money to find down the back of a sofa she will find it. She cleaned her bomb site of a room the other day and emerged triumphantly with £8 in various coinage. She is our village shop’s best customer. It won’t be long before she has shares in the place.

The Santa letter has not been a totally smooth experience however. There have been tears and tantrums along the way. And I’m just talking about the parents here. Sample replies to her myriad of questions have included ‘How much?’, ‘Leave me alone’ and ‘For the 45th time no you cannot get Grand Theft Auto for your PS4.’

It has been a long and winding road but the finished product now sits on our fireplace awaiting collection. Santa may still be lounging on the beach in the Maldives but he had better get his sleigh charged up soon  and recall the reindeers from pasture as there is work to be done. There are no excuses. The weather outside is most definitely not frightening. It’s 17 degrees centigrade for goodness sake. That’s a heatwave by Irish standards.

I have wanted to write about Rebecca for a number of reasons. Firstly I have already written about our other two hatchlings, Adam and Hannah, so she was long overdue a mention. She is the firecracker of the family, full of fun, energy and laughter. There is never a dull moment when she is around and for that we are blessed. She loves her Bible stories and has a huge heart for others. 

Secondly this will most likely be her last year writing to Santa. And so will end a magical period of our lives as parents. The other two stopped believing years ago so we have clung on to Rebecca and her love of all things Claus. The way she has jumped full length into this year’s festivities makes me think that she too realises that this is the last hurrah. We will make the very most of this last Christmas and then hope we are blessed with grandchildren in years to come so that we can relive it all over again. 

Thirdly her excitement over the letter made me think. She has written it so expectantly, truly believing with all her heart that when she charges down the stairs on Christmas morning the gifts she has asked for will be sitting waiting for her. There is no doubt in her mind. Her childlike faith is both humbling and inspirational.

I envy her faith. When we pray, part of that process is asking God to provide for ourselves and others. It is not a selfish act as God is delighted that we are approaching him with our needs. And if they are in accordance with his will they will be provided. How many times, however, do we approach prayer with a lukewarm mentality? We hope that God listens to and answers our prayers but do we believe he will with a rock solid confidence?

Being honest I know that I do not. Often my prayers are half hearted. I have prayed for family members and friends to be healed while at the same time doubting that it will ever happen. By doing so I am doubting myself and in the process doubting my God.  That is an insult to a God who created the universe and knows me inside out and back to front. To a God who has answered my prayers before on countless occasions and performed daily miracles before my very eyes.

So today I pray for Rebecca. I thank God for giving us such an amazing girl. And I also pray for her faith. That when I next place my requests humbly before God I do so with the faith and confidence with which she writes her Santa letter. He might not truly exist and you might read this thinking that God does not either. But I do and pray that you will one day as well.

Take a chance. What’s to lose. Believe. In the true Christmas miracle. Over 2000 years ago. In a stable at Bethlehem.

Philippians 4:6 – ‘Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God.’

*SPOILER ALERT* When did you stop believing in Santa?

Are there still Santa believers in your house? When do they write their letters?

Do you ever read the Christmas story during the summer?

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