Well, a little late-in-the-day inviting and we had ourselves a small but perfectly formed New Year's Eve. I couldn't resist the urge to retox before I inevitably started my detox today.
Despite quite a vicious sibling-spat at about 9.30pm, the evening swam by beautifully, oiled by some lovely wine, some fun and games and lots of nibbles amalgamated and contributed to by our guests.
We discussed the twothousandandten v. twentyten notion for about five minutes and then forgot about that and continued to be silly. I seem to remember a conversation about the concept of developing a spa-dog. Our combined age is somewhere in the region of 240. We should know better.
The 'on call' element of the evening, I believe, passed well enough although G is now working which isn't great on New Year's Day. Am going to whizz up a brunch once our offspring have emerged from their duvets.
The siblings are still in bed. It's 11.30am. Not surprising having gone to bed at 2am. Will they have yet another pyjama day? I think so.
It's a truly beautiful day today here in Wiltshire but surprisingly frozen under foot. There are lots of tiny hailstones on the ground. As my Nan would say 'they're missing the best part of the day'.
So...here we are, 2010.
I've been having a right dither as there are so many things I could resolve/do/undertake. As blog readers/writers, we all know about daily/weekly/annual projects that range from 'no spend months' to 'write a novel each week for a year' to take a photo of my toenails growing for a year. I woke up this morning thinking that maybe I should just have a 'do what I like' year...or a no resolution year but as the title of this blogpost suggests, I need to do projectforty(something) again. Quick.
It could have been the daily mince pie. It might have been the nightly glass of sherry. It may be that the sofa I have been slumped on for the last few days has in fact attached itself somewhere about my person resulting in my significant weight gain.
I know I am not interesting or different in this respect and I know that January 1st isn't a good day to step on the scales but, dearie me, I have somehow got to get a grip. We're off skiing in six weeks, if I don't do something by then, I'll be rolling not gliding down those slopes.