If I woke up tomorrow with my head sewn to the carpet, I wouldn’t be more surprised than I am now.

Christmas cheer was spread all over Shropshire this weekend. I told y’all Friday about our big Santa Safari this weekend. I think the makers of that amazing YouTube advert should run a full disclaimer at the bottom:


The “just two adults,” “where’s your child,” “is the engagement ring in your pocket” jokes from the elves were a bit of a giveaway that we’d be in trouble. We safari’d, and we saw Santa. Although, Santa didn’t look excited to see us, maybe confused. I had to ask to sit on his lap. Definitely the first time we said we need a kid.

But I will say the location was wicked and the cave smelled like a big delicious Christmas tree. The reindeer were legit too. The hus liked riding in the D90 but was disappointed when we were only offered fruit punch. To which I replied, “Fruit punch with what?” You elves have any special cocoa for the adults?

After a shaky safari, we headed out Sunday to pick mistletoe. A family tradition of one of our mates. We schlepped hiked five miles in the rain a bit to find the perfect mistletoe. Andrew, wasting no time, plucked the biggest mistletoe on the mountain. It wasn’t until the return back to the car that the bottom fell out. We were absolutely soaked. I tried to grab a sheep for cover.

We found the closest pub to warm up by the fire. Can’t say we’ve had a boring weekend here since we’ve moved. Although I am still drying out, we had quite the festive weekend.


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