And so this is Christmas. And what have we done? Another year over. A new one just begun.
Well, not yet…we have to get through Christmas first. Shopping is basically done; just have to print off a few gift certificates and maybe wrap them for a laugh. They won’t look like the most impressive under the tree, but big things come in small packages. That’s what Dad used to say when he was experimenting with dynamite in the back garden. Didn’t actually manage to save up for his prosthetic spine this year, but he gets around in his wheelchair just fine.
‘Experiences’, they say. ‘Experiences’ are better than ‘things’. So while all my presents to the family seem total lame this year, from a gift-wrapping point of view, they’re all amazing. Vaughn is getting a track racing experience, of course. Easiest of them all. Mum is going to a spa, but specifically not one where they play zen music or try to unlock your chakras. Kelly is an interesting one. There are all these dry needling courses taking place in Christchurch…you’ve probably heard of them, causing a bit of a stir, or so they say. My sister has been saying for ages that she doesn’t feel like massage therapy is her calling. Bit of a daring present, buying someone a place on a course that they might not even like. But that’s ALL presents. You don’t know if a person likes it before they open the present. You don’t even know AFTER. They always smile and say thanks, even if they’re thinking about the most efficient way to get rid of it.
But Kelly has the hands of surgeon. I think she’d be a great dry needler. Mum will be happy that Kelly is doing something mystical rather than scientific, she might be able to do something about all those sporting injuries Vaughn keeps getting, and a trigger point dry needling course isn’t THAT different to massage therapy.
That just leaves Dad. He can’t do much. The cinema membership should keep him entertained, though.