Tis the most wonderful time of the year

December Floods

Last night was going to be all about shortbread cookies. I even bought the ingredients to make , , and vanilla ones, but sadly I got distracted by shopping, and dinner had to be cooked when we finally got home, so by the time that was all sorted it was late and I was . Too tired to mix a simple recipe anyway. I'm going to work from home one day this week so I may decide to make them then. Instead, we settled in on the sofa to catch up on the evening news.

There's been a lot of weather related bulletins over the last couple of days in the UK; weather warning ranging for amber to severe, as large areas of the country are inundated with record levels of rainfall, which has caused the rivers to burst their banks, flooding villages and homes. The video links and pictures are heart breaking, as are the stories behind them.

Unfortunately this seems to be becoming a tradition in its own right. It's certainly more frequent than the illusive white Christmas that almost everyone craves. The Government has spent millions in flood defences over the past five years, but to little avail; merely putting off the inevitable power and destruction of mother nature. At least it gives precious hours and minutes delay to those in the firing line, and I'm sure lives and belongs were saved as a result.

There're hundreds of families whose Christmas' and very lives have been thrown into chaos at a time when most of us are safe, and warm, and enjoying the festive spirit. People suddenly homeless, their precious possessions lost or destroyed. I doubt there'll be Christmas dinners or - not the ones they'd hoped for anyway. Instead they have hours of paperwork and conversations with insurance companies as they try to piece their lives back together. A truly bleak time.

But perhaps there's also some light, a small flicker, as in amongst the doom and sopping mess there're also tales of community and support; of football players returning home to a flooded pitch and vowing to help those families in the community with whatever they can; from clearing houses, to removing river sludge; or army cadets, waist deep, helping their neighbours. One of my favourite pictures was of a donkey, freshly rescued from the flood waters, surrounded by the volunteers that helped it survive. After weeks of cruel, gut wrenching, terrorist attacks across the globe, these little sparks of humanity, right in our own doorstep, gives me hope that all is not lost.

The whole situation makes me re-evaluate, and appreciate my life, and how fortunate I am. Maybe it even gives a new face, a truer face, of what Christmas is all about - or should be about - not the consumer monolith that many fear it's become, but rather a time when people come together, of villages uniting. And a time of quiet reflection and gratitude for those not directly affected. It's certainly made me question what I can do, how I can help, and surely I can't be on my own with this.