At least two of my core memories involve my primary school teacher telling me I was a liar in front of other children and in front of adults about things I was telling the truth about. Adults not believing me whether or not, and actually especially not when, I was telling the truth was a regular feature of my childhood. I formed the opinion then (this really matches with the autism diagnosis by the way) that I would need to practice telling truths that mattered as if I was simply honest the likelihood was that I wouldn’t be honest in the right way. By that I meant a way that would be believed. That has been born out well into adulthood, my truths feel like Cassandra’s prophecies sometimes.
In anycase the one relevant to today was that Mum left the Christmas decorations up until my birthday. That really made Mrs Coombs annoyed with me, because she seemed to think I was attaching some kind of extra significance to my birthday… I don’t know if I was aware at four or five years old of exactly what twelfth night was but I was absolutely sure that my birthday was the same day as Epiphany and I liked that Christmas decorations coming down meant it was time for my birthday.
Actually they start coming down gradually this week and it starts with the Christmas tree so that I don’t kill it. I grew up with a living tree growing in the back garden and I see no reason not to keep on with that no matter that I have a back yard not a garden.
I do get sad a bit taking down decorations, I’m a big fan of of Christmas, but at least that means that it’s time to think about Imbolc and plan sushi and soybeans.