This is Anton's first year of that deliciously painful anticipation lucky children have of Christmas. He remembers last year well (no snow) but thanks to Peppa Pig and Charlie and Lola is waiting for snowflakes to herald the arrival of Father Christmas. Helping children mark the passing of advent days has become a huge industry but the tradition I like best is the weekly lighting, (one, two, three, four, CHRISTMAS!!) of candles on an advent wreath. My Dad always makes a good one. Living in a country where those of us celebrating Christmas are a very small minority these traditions are also reminders of memories shared with people faraway. I was really happy when a friend told me that the Austrian Church in Karaköy were making wreaths for charity, and today we went to pick ours up. Because it was a beautiful day we decided to take the wreath on a short tour of the city and so, like Amelie's Gnome, it had the chance to be snapped in various famous locations! When we finally got it home the scent of cinnamon and oranges reminded us that it was high time we started mulling wine. So we did.

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As I wrote yesterday I am struggling a bit with getting about in Istanbul with the children. The problem is that I don't want to hide at home either because I love exploring this city as much as I resent how hard it is for parents with children to move about easily here. Weekends are wonderful because Ville wears Neve, pushes Anton and answers all of Matti's questions, and I get to admire them all with my hands free. I adore watching the man I love with our children. Starting December also means that Ruskin will soon be home for Christmas.

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