Blimey, how is Christmas the only decent-length break of the year that often doesn't feel like one??<\/p>\n
Must be all that rushing around, finishing work, prepping stuff, making lists, buying food and yet more food, sorting presents, tree, guests, tidying, feeding, clearing up, doing it all over again with the next set of people and PHEW before you know it, a bloody week's gone by and you need a damn good soak in a hot bath and a night with definiterly nothing stronger than a losing-its-fizz leftover ginger beer as you groan on the sofa (assuming you've managed to move your Mother off it long enough to get a look in, that is….)<\/p>\n
So, looking back on the festive season, it kicked off for us with The Party.<\/p>\n
Our kitchen warming \/ thanks to everyone who fed us while we had no oven \/ excuse to piss off the pompous Scottish twat next door who's given us so much grief over the extension party.<\/p>\n
And if I say so myself, what a top night! Memorable highlights being the boozed-up conga around our new lah-di-dah 'island', everyone very loudly Predict(ing) a Riot, me sneaking a fag outside wearing Nursey's size 11 man-shoes and everyone springing into action like finely honed athletes every time the inevitable red wine accidentally hit the new flooring – all signs of a fabulous middle age house party! Mojo obviously enjoyed it too as she spent the entire night in the kitchen, probably hunting hopeful as ever, for any stray sausage pigs fallen out of their blankets….<\/p>\n
Since, then there's been Pam's annual chipolata party – slightly unrecognisable this year without the thigh high snow we've got used to wading through to get there, now replaced with fire chains and all things flaming, but still a mountain of saucisses and moutarde.<\/p>\n
And then Xmas Day itself and Boxing Day, with the Scotts one day and the Hawkes' the next. A bumper crop of marv prezzies this year, worth a mention as that was a rarity growing up and in the leaner love years, and it's one very good thing about getting a bit older!<\/p>\n
Then to Claire White's birthday on the 27th, a bizarre bumping into Janine & Ross that morning in the mens section of Austin Reed where all of us were out hunting for jackets in the sales, then on to meet Claire & Jon at the Quins game. Pretty shite match truth be told, and why oh why are there always such monster queues for the women's loos?? One late night curry and the last train home, and suddenly it was the 28th Dec.<\/p>\n
So – off to the shops again, this time for some chick flavour sales purchasing, even managed to find some trousers made of such new-fangled material that they squeeze round my 'yes I can get another 6 chocloates in, check this out' girth. And for some reason a mere 3 duvet sets and 4 pillows in Peter Jones, they must blow 'buy linen, sucker, look at the offers' music secretly at you on entry, I'd gone in looking for a bloody butter dish and came out looking like a white Mr Blobby.<\/p>\n
And so to today, a thriller of trying to see if there was a better hockey stick than the one H had bought me in the shop, when no, there actually wasn't. Going to the gym to be laughed at by my trainer Nick, who is threatening a Jan 2 weigh in to shock me into some serious pre-hols dieting action. Applying for an Occupational Therapist to come and see Mum, then going for the higher rate of Attendance Allowance and again being thwarted in my Blue Badge application as I now have to get Mum on the Electoral Roll to prove she lives here before I can send it off. Sneaky bastards, wonder how many more hoops will need jumping through before they – most likely – still turn us down!<\/p>\n
And tomorrow, a luxurious 5am awakening as H and I will be doing our annual foray to Billingsgate fish Market to buy all types of moving, pinchy crustacea to take down to the cottage for two nights over New Year. Oh look, all the booze for the cottage is already in the hallway and what's missing? That'll be our walking boots, then. Wonder if by the time I post this, that thought will have shot straight back out of my head again and we'll just have to stay put for 48 lovely hours on the sofa. Here's hoping…<\/p>\n
So, wishing you a Happy New Year all you wonderful people. May your New Year soirees be delicate and genteel (OK, debauched and drunken, who am I trying to kid), your resolutions reasonable and resolute (AKA desperate and up the Swannee by day three), and your returns to work put off as long as possible.<\/p>\n
Much end of 2011 love, Scotty x<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
Blimey, how is Christmas the only decent-length break of the year that often doesn't feel like one?? Must be all that rushing around, finishing work, prepping stuff, making lists, buying food and yet more food, sorting presents, tree, guests, tidying, feeding, clearing up, doing it all over again with the next set of people and […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"nf_dc_page":"","om_disable_all_campaigns":false,"_monsterinsights_skip_tracking":false,"_monsterinsights_sitenote_active":false,"_monsterinsights_sitenote_note":"","_monsterinsights_sitenote_category":0,"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-1246","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-uncategorized"],"yoast_head":"\n