Happy New Year!
Well, that was, er, festive, I suppose. I ate far too much, saw a bunch of people who I only ever see at Christmas, and watched a lot of telly. Not going into details, but I am not feeling especially jolly at the moment. The whole ghastly, expensive process is still going on, too, On Saturday, I am to meet up with the niece and head back to the brother’s house, probably for yet more Christmas pudding and argument over Sherlock. I was to have gone there tomorrow, but the niece has a paper to finish for work, so I have a reprieve, in which I can finish off all the hand-made presents I had a bloody year to finish.
Tomorrow, I was also due to see the mad back-to-work woman, but I’m afraid I cancelled, claiming to be marooned in Devon by floods. I had been quite prepared to elaborate on this, with graphic descriptions of a submerged Ottery St Mary (some of the town floods in most years) and besieged by hordes of panicking otters, driven from their homes by the rising waters, but they didn’t ask, although now I’m wondering if I do have a future in fiction after all.
Giving presents looms pretty large for me every Christmas. I enjoy picking them out, and making them, but what I am complete rubbish at is getting them to the recipient in time. An added problem this year has been my mislaying of several already-purchased things. One of them had not only been already purchased but already given a couple of years ago. This was a pity, as it was the one present I knew would be perfect; a weasel skull for the nephew, who likes drawing skeletons, and has a commission for a painting of a dragon, which could quite easily have a weaselly look. However, since he already has the thing, I suppose he has already used it. I hope this isn’t the first sign of my memory going - a few loose slates on the roof of the memory palace…
Moaning over, now I want to wish you a very happy New Year, full of everything you want to happen and with very little of what you don’t want. I had a really dreadful time in 2013, so I’m rather nervously hoping that 2014 will be an improvement.
Oh, and on a completely different topic, I really, really enjoyed Sherlock last night, but it does occur to me that we still don't know how he did it. On Sunday, I am off to a joint Twelfth-Night/birthday party for young Lois, who is a huge Benedict Cumberbatch fan (3 goes at spelling that). She was unaware of the existence of Cabin Pressure, so I plan to impress her with all 4 seasons, plus a Johnlock phone case. See, I really like giving people presents...
Tomorrow, I was also due to see the mad back-to-work woman, but I’m afraid I cancelled, claiming to be marooned in Devon by floods. I had been quite prepared to elaborate on this, with graphic descriptions of a submerged Ottery St Mary (some of the town floods in most years) and besieged by hordes of panicking otters, driven from their homes by the rising waters, but they didn’t ask, although now I’m wondering if I do have a future in fiction after all.
Giving presents looms pretty large for me every Christmas. I enjoy picking them out, and making them, but what I am complete rubbish at is getting them to the recipient in time. An added problem this year has been my mislaying of several already-purchased things. One of them had not only been already purchased but already given a couple of years ago. This was a pity, as it was the one present I knew would be perfect; a weasel skull for the nephew, who likes drawing skeletons, and has a commission for a painting of a dragon, which could quite easily have a weaselly look. However, since he already has the thing, I suppose he has already used it. I hope this isn’t the first sign of my memory going - a few loose slates on the roof of the memory palace…
Moaning over, now I want to wish you a very happy New Year, full of everything you want to happen and with very little of what you don’t want. I had a really dreadful time in 2013, so I’m rather nervously hoping that 2014 will be an improvement.
Oh, and on a completely different topic, I really, really enjoyed Sherlock last night, but it does occur to me that we still don't know how he did it. On Sunday, I am off to a joint Twelfth-Night/birthday party for young Lois, who is a huge Benedict Cumberbatch fan (3 goes at spelling that). She was unaware of the existence of Cabin Pressure, so I plan to impress her with all 4 seasons, plus a Johnlock phone case. See, I really like giving people presents...