Monday, 31 December 2007

resolution revolution

Every year I make them and every year I break them, so, now I'm forty I'm giving up giving up. It's pointless. Worse than that, promising to deny myself in all sorts of ways just makes me feel bad and inspires bouts of senseless eating to make myself feel better. Maturity is a great thing, don't you think?

We were sitting with friends yesterday discussing getting older. The gentleman in the party were very sensible about the whole thing, deciding that worrying about getting older is a silly thing to do and we should all just get on with it.

I came to the conclusion that there are advantages of getting a little older. Firstly, see the above paragraph. You can simply refuse to do stuff you don't want to. Secondly, and I see this as a great advantage, the older you get, the easier it is to behave badly because expectations of you are higher and much more specific. Therefore you can get the same feelings of thrilldom that were experienced in headier more youthful times by doing things like not cleaning your windows or giving people non-bone-china cups when they come for tea or, heavens, serving instant coffee in a mug! Believe me, this works. A slight subversion of daily social requirements can be quite exhilarating especially for viewers of Cranford and other BBC (NOT ITV) period dramas.

Christmas is over so I want to take the tree down. I am meeting some resistance to this plan from G and the beloved offspring. If I was in charge, the tree would be removed today, New Year's Eve to at least give the impression of clear, clutter free minimalism. However, as I am not in charge, merely the staff, I must resign myself to a few more days of sparkly trinkets and wonkily displayed Christmas cards.

To counteract this lack of control, I am going to do some gardening instead. I don't think I've gone further than the edge of the patio for a couple of months. I look at the dreary, weeded square from the kitchen and just can't bear to tackle it. I went through a phase of loving gardening, watching Monty Don, dreaming of herbaceous borders but I just see it all as potential compost now. I can't think what changed. I shall ponder.

Sunday, 23 December 2007

Fog, frost and festivities

It's cold, really cold. Foggy, really foggy. We've all been at home since Friday and we are all still alive. The fridge is rammed, the cupboard is full and my lists of when, where and what to stuff is growing longer. It's still 2 whole days to Christmas.

The final of Strictly was marvellous and the outcome well-deserved for the gorgeous Alesha. We've developed a bit of a tradition with our favourite family and watch as many of the heats together in a heap on our respective sofas, eating too many peanuts and debating which celeb has the prettiest frock. Who needs to go out on a Saturday night?

I am going to sort out my piles today. We were considering a last-minute shopping trip but it's too foggy and too cold. So the piles are going to get it. I wondered about setting up a blog about piles and inviting people to email their piles as a record of our temporary attempts to rationalise our lives. There's a blog about to-do lists that's become a book. It sounds a wheeze.

I've bought enough food to sustain a small army but it only consists of Christmas food. Our diet over the next few days will consist of sprouts, carrots and pringles with dips. I worry for our constitutions.

Q: How does Jack Frost get to work
A: By icicle

Boom boom!

Monday, 17 December 2007

Bonjour mes amis

It's amazing what 4 late nights, a vat of red wine and some salsa clubbing can do for a girl. Not to mention, ladles and oodles and rooms full of art. Lacroix was divine. The old masters were fab and the conceptual installations were splendiforous. I behaved like a proper art student and drew stuff in galleries. I learned that I draw like Giacometti and that I can't be doing with figurative sculpture no matter how old or chipped it is.

I love Paris and one day we will live there, just for a while, in a tiny apartment before we have to invest in zimmer frames and bunion pads. I'm thinking six months of art and culture followed by a month in the French alps and the spring/summer on the coast somewhere on the Mediterranean. I'll probably have to wait until I'm in my fifties but it's one thing I'd like to promise myself. How difficult could that be?

I got back Friday and we had a quiet, pottering weekend, back to college today and tomorrow and then, that's it, Christmas is upon us. I haven't written a card so am now going to guiltily go through the piles and work out who I need to send them to. What I hope to do is email festive greetings and then make a donation to the young carers charity instead of spending hours licking stamps and contributing to deforestation. The tree is up - with coloured, sparkly lights no less and we are all a glitter in the country this sparkly reindeer outside yet. Though there are still a few days to go.

Ho ho ho.....

Wednesday, 5 December 2007

It's been a week and a bit

Human League were very entertaining....Phil Oakey was as bald as G and the ladies were fabulous. It was a historic event with a full run through of 'Dare' followed by a few of their later hits. A good night. This weekend we're off to see Hard-Fi which I suspect will be just as good with a younger, perhaps wilder crowd!

Well - what's been happening...Christmas shopping, obviously. I took a painful trip to Cribbs last week. I'm at that tricky stage where I know I've got most things but haven't actually worked out what I'm missing, thereby likely to have a wee festive panic when I get back from Paris (yes, did I mention Paris!).

College has been a write-off this week as I'm sort of sick a bit. Not sick enough to lie down but sick enough to be dizzy and pathetic. Also, J has done something to his leg so can't walk so we're spending lots of lovely days in the house, watching the rain, making lists, losing lists.

I'm teetering on the edge of a green Christmas. I've bought recycled wrapping paper and am determined to reduce my pointless Christmas card sending list and use the cash to send a beehive to Kazakhstan or somewhere a bit grimmer than Wiltshire. I know I'll end up sounding like a pompous old greeny but I just don't see the point of giving Christmas cards to friends I see every day. I'd rather make them a nice cup of tea, give them a bun and have a natter. And don't start me on Christmas cards at school....bah humbug, deck the halls with boughs of green matter, that's what I say!