Love is...

I am tired. Very tired. It is proving to be a long haul to the Christmas holidays.

Thus was I a weary, fed-up traveller when I arrived home this evening. All I wanted to do, all I was capable of doing, was having a shower, getting changed and drinking a mug of tea. And even then I wasn't sure about my ability to stay awake long enough to do that.

And then...

THIS!!

Andy, my lovely, kind, sweet and adorable husband, presented me a gingerbread house! Yes, he made it himself. Today. With his own masterchef hands.

Isn't it wonderful? Isn't it great? Isn't it just a piece of pure Christmas magic?

I sat and stared at it. I nibbled on a piece of gingerbread wall. I marvelled at its little melted sweet windows, and its tree, and its almond-tiled roof.

I thought, 'Love is when a little thing lifts up a weary soul.'

I thought, ' Love is an unexpected moment of childish happiness.'

I thought, 'Love is...a gingerbread house!'