The Elf on the Shelf was officially shoved back into the black Christmas box straight after our festive lunch. I fucked the baked potatoes, plus the pork ended up inedible bar the crackle. Thank god the crackle survived. If you’ve played along here for a while, you would well and truly know that I’m not the biggest fan of the silly season, insert “ this is bullshit, why do I have to cook all this food and decorate a fucking tree.” We’ve been lucky enough to not endure a sequel to “cyclone storm 2017”. December cemented our two year anniversary of our tree change and the past December didn’t bring the dramatic and catastrophic welcome that we experienced a couple of years ago. It feels longer than two years. And in some ways I can still recall leaving the “burbs” in the wee hours of the morning, waving the city life goodbye while we quietly drove through the city before the sun rose. I haven’t been back since, and I’m not sure I will head down to the big smoke anytim...