There is an ethereal quality to Christmas morning.  The world is still, the birds silent. 
This year sunshine streams down over us all, bathing us with the promise that was given so many years ago.   A time to pause and reflect, a time to give thanks as we think of all the good things surrounding us - our blessings and our hopes.  All come together on this day, a few hours given to us, rich or poor, believers and non believers;  sick or able, young and old, to connect briefly with the universe and its message. 

Where do the skinny red worms come from that line the lid of my compost bin?  They aren’t like any of the worms I see when I dig the soil but they are like the ones that hide under the saucers I put under the flower pots.  It is as if they arrive from out of nowhere. 

I wonder sometimes whether worm eggs are added to the packet of compost maker that I sprinkle on top of the bin’s contents to help break it down?  Perhaps the ones under the flower pot saucers are escapees?  

The bank in town has been revamped, very smart – 4 separate terminals for the cashiers to sit at – so WHY is it the policy of the bank to only ever have one cashier working at a time, while the other three prowl around the waiting queue of customers asking if they can be of any help? 

Napoleon we need you to come and dictate some sense into this mess!