This year, I am making my Christmas cards. Not planning to, like every other year. I have bought the necessary bits, fished out the felt from my craft box, dusted off my typewriter, and actually started. I know. Today I got our wrapping paper, and some crepe to make more decorations with, and Vincent and I just bought five books for presents, including two copies of The Communist Manifesto (double points). I feel dangerously organised (and, if I'm honest, a little bit smug). The only thing is, if I want to stay organised (and, by extension, smug), something has to go, and because Christmas is nineteen days away, it's going to have to be the long, rambling post I would usually write, so I will just leave you with a song I've been listening to along with the rest of Dylan's terrifying but great Christmas album.
I will just say one thing though. What the fuck kind of country are we to allow big companies to lock out workers? Wharfies, I'm with you.