you say you want a resolution…
Well that’s it for another year, and a fine time was had by all (particularly me) as I have drifted gently about the house in a nutmeggy, cinnamon-scented fug, turkey-stuffing-cranberry-bread-sauce sandwich in hand, top oven kept permanently on low for mince pie emergencies and the handheld vacuum fully charged and ready to do battle against the inexorable pine needle invasion. Whilst the early snow has undoubtedly posed a few problems, the view from my window has delighted me throughout, right up until yesterday when the previously crisp, thick and squeaky white blanket was eventually reduced to so much wet, grey-brown sludge and has now disappeared altogether.
Not being a particularly keen or enthusiastic shopper (and following the Boxing Day news reports showing high street stores the length and breadth of the land resembling the final segments of Shaun of the Dead), I chose instead to end the festivities by the warm, scented bath-and-lotion route followed by very enjoyable cashmere-swathed hibernation on the settee. It seems far preferable to me, after all, to spend a quiet afternoon with a good book, Horlicks, satsumas and Stollen; the TV on, the mobile phone off and my little Vaio resting faithfully by my side atop the special fortnight-long copy of the Radio Times.
The final earthly remains of my plump and lovely free-range Bronze have been carefully wrapped and hereby committed to the freezer in order to provide the wherewithal for my repeat Christmas lunch around the start of Spring, which I usually begin fantasising about around the time that my once-abundant chilled leftovers have been reduced beyond even the last cold roast potato, to mournfully wiping tiny scraps of jellied turkey stock from the nearly-empty plate. Thankfully this development is a few days away yet and the refrigerator (in common with some appreciative visitors) is still replete with an eclectic selection of odds and ends including some huge cooked crevettes, trifle, maple syrup-roasted parsnips, the obligatory turkey with proper stuffing and most desirably of all, cold bread sauce and gravy to go with.
As I have never really been one to uphold convention, I have been surprised this week to find my thoughts turning to the upcoming New Year and specifically the practice of making resolutions; a tradition which I have eschewed for many years, although, at the time of writing I am struggling to decide on anything more than a good clearout (wardrobe/loft/spare room), getting my new photographs taken (this last delayed largely due to the lack of any decent or sustained daylight over the past few weeks) and the ever-predictable losing of some weight, which given my proclivities/food obsession, is only ever going to be a source of misery and self-chastisement (and chastisement, like exercise, is only really fun when someone else is doing it). I will give it some thought – it has to be said that I have been missing my regular travels since my house move last year and a long-ish trip may well be on the cards towards the summer.
For now though, Edinburgh beckons this weekend and the intervening days are filling up fast; prospective visitors are advised to book in the next couple of days. I will not be available – and my phone will be off from 6pm – on Thursday evening (as I will more than likely be asleep by 10pm), Saturday (packing/preparing), and tomorrow (Tuesday) is provisionally fully booked. To those who have emailed with enquiries regarding London or Birmingham, I’m getting to you – promise! No rest for the wicked…
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