‘Welcome to the new edition of this Guest Blog. I am a full-time working mum of 2 boys and a published novelist of ‘The Ninth Cross’ by my pen name J. Karst. I get involved in trying that little bit I can in saving the environment for the future generations.’

             I sang to myself jingle bells when I was taping the recycling stuffed boxes. That’s 82.4Kg of waste that’s heading to be recycled. It’s the nice part of the volunteering, as it shows the result of the never-ending box stuffing.

            Filled with joyful mood I started to pull out the Christmas decorations despite of the Grinches dislike for decorations that should come out only after 2^nd week of December has passed. Sneakily, at the cloak of night, I decorated the porch.

            Now, I have large baubles hanging from my porch roof surrounded by greenery and plenty of flickering Christmas lights. There is a mini-Christmas tree filled with tinsel that its borderline dazzling safety hazard for unsuspecting drivers. As I got away with decorating the outside, I began to ponder which room to start decorating indoors.

            Like a stealthy ninja I pulled out two boxes out of the cupboard. Silently as a mouse I tiptoed out of the loft with the joyful Christmas décor filled boxes. Sadly, I forgot that to get to these boxes I had to move away the heavy metal Christmas tree stand. With the boxes restricting my vision I tripped over the tree stand and with mighty crash I scattered the Christmas joy all over the loft.

            The pain was unbelievable, and my shin was bleeding. My husband ran to my rescue with a cold pack and painkillers. He didn’t need to speak as his face said it all. A normal person would learn their way, but who says that I am a normal person?

Only two hours later as I hid away underneath our dining room table to test couple of Christmas lights, I heard footsteps. ‘Quickly, hide the lights and pretend you aren’t doing anything’, shouted my brain and I sprang up to action.

            My husband found me stone cold underneath the heavy oak table laying atop flashing Christmas lights. It was the lights that guided him to check under the table. I only knocked myself out for a second before coming round to face my husband. ‘What have you done now?’ he kindly asked as he helped me to get up. ‘I think I headbutted the table’ I replied at the same time as I realised that my head was more painful than the leg.

I abandoned the ninja style Christmas decorating. This is a warning for you all, about the dangers that lurk about for the unsuspecting Christmas spirited individual…

1. Karst

Instagram – #j_karst_author and #littleberkshirewomble

Facebook – J. Karst Author

Email – jkarstauthor@gmail.com