I made a Gingerbread house on Christmas Eve, mostly inspired by seeing this video by Justine at which I like to scoff in a superior and obnoxious manner. “Gingerbread house in a box?” thought I, “What a cop out.” It all went swimmingly although I measured everything nicely before it went into the oven and conveniently forgot everything expanded inside.

Luckily when haphazardly trying to stick it all together, which was like using lumpy breakable bricks and was imaginably a pure delight, my father walked in proclaiming his tiling skills. I’ve never seen my Dad actually interested in cooking-related things so seriously before, but under the guise of DIY he (like me) got far too excited.

I was really pleased with all this until I met a friend at a pub who’d done exactly the same thing. We compared photos – hers was beautiful and intricate, and even had footprints in the icing snow. Mine looks like it’s been done by a five year old and the roof join has a big hole. I don’t really care though. We spent Boxing Day drinking champagne, playing a four hour game of monopoly and demolished it.

Also most impressed with ability of a roofy piece to stand up by itself.

There are nice things about going home to my little village for Christmas. Not only sozzled parents but also a big snowy untouched back garden.

We wanted to build a snowman but it was too icy so we settled for a half-built igloo using spades to cut chunks and accidentally batter the grass. I parcel-taped my camera to the upstairs window frame at the back of the house, with the window open throwing wild abandon to heating costs.

And then it rained, and got dark. So I threw a bucket of water over it hoping it might turn into ice, and we went inside for tea.

The music is by ‘Christmas Song’ by The Hornblower Bros (a local Brighton band who I need to write about at some point) poached unashamedly from Jonathan.

I love this concept from Marcus Walters/Mother from 2008, and I do not care if I’m a year behind the times. It reminds me of when I was in reception class [reception class where I come from is half a year of school before joining year 1] we used to spend sessions waving transparent coloured bits of acetate over our eyes and looking at windows. I’m not entirely sure for what reason. But it reminds me of feeling fun and childish and happiness. And really mesmerised, but that’s less of a Coke attribute.

He’s also drawn some nice pictures of hair.

I made some candles recently. They didn’t require a massive attention span, and the internet told me I could use yogurt pots as molds, which pretty much sold it for me.

It was lots of fun. I suppose these have turned out to be one of the “well they’re ugly as hell, but they’re mine and I love them” things. They’re probably not very nice for you but I love my little blue and white-ish candles. They’ve been sitting around looking very pretty and I’ve only just braved some terrible fear that lighting them will break them (by break I mean I’ll have fundamentally made them wrong and they’ll explode).

I’ve written up how to make them over at Bitchbuzz.

As for today I’m beginning a long slow fight with a pair of knitting needles. I’m using happy red thread to keep my spirit up.

I am enjoying illustrated tweets today. Lovely and peculiar illustrations by Katie Vernon of tweets plucked from the public timeline. Of particular note are the father-like hairy legged animals; my father is made of 90% beard and had some glasses exactly like these in the 80s. (He was a trend setter, and is still rocking the look today.) Anyway these are ace.