Sébastien and the Twelve Gays of Christmas

I have to admit the last few weeks have been pretty bleak. And I haven't been able to get into the Christmas spirit.

The death of the blogger Bruce McDonald deeply affected me. It made me very sad. It brought back memories of my own struggle with depression.

At a time when the political darkness has never seemed so dark. The Harper Cons never so foul.

And to make matters worse my companion Sébastien has been away working with an emergency medical team in Haiti. Where poverty, disease, and despair are making people crazy.

The south-western region of Grand Anse has been swept by rumours that voodoo followers were deliberately spreading the infection using a mysterious powder.

According to police, machete-wielding mobs began tracking down those suspected of employing "black magic," before killing them and burning their corpses in the street.

It's been awful. I've tried to blog about funny things to lift my spirits. But I haven't been able to motivate myself enough to put up the Christmas tree.

I can't tell you how much I depend on that strong, noble guy to lift me out of the muck of this sick world, and help me see the faint light of a better tomorrow. Or how much I have worried, or how much I have missed him.

And I'm not the only one. The old dog who loves Sébastien almost as much as I do, waits by the door every night for him to come home.

Or just mopes a lot and refuses to play with his robot.











And of course the robot is sad too eh? Because he can't play chase the bunny.

The good news? Sébastien is coming home tomorrow.

The tree will be going up in the morning.

The little reindeer will be wearing his antlers.


















And I'll be counting down the days to Christmas.

Like these fabulous brothers...



Oh boy. Love hurts. Love makes you CRAZY.

I don't know what I did to deserve it eh?

But isn't it wonderful?