in with the new

breath dig cox snooze act give receive chortle hum accept reveal fight question answer might drive study work wish nurture grip spell respond surprise support observe ice-cream excite relate turn make lick quicken revolt spell arse renew plot Christine’s Garden dream move challenge savour release alchemy space balance sense tickle.

out with the old

Sloth torpor passive stolid static stagnant fallow gutless lax slack limp flaccid sluggish tepid weary idle aimless fear hesitant regret pies procrastinate avoid poison cheap chocolate filler fancy void inert arse defeat abnegate concede Eastenders hide abjure mass censor forbid abuse saturate cud cross defunct submit withdraw vapid grease numb.

could try harder

This year is all used up.

I never grabbed it; never wrestled it into submission. Never tied it up, tickled its belly, and rolled it, dizzy and giggling, down a grassy hill into the nettles.

I never licked a finger and, touching it to a day, claimed that day mine.

aslan product placement

We watched a trail for Narnia at school, on the interactive whiteboard.

What?

Every classroom in Mol and Zig’s school now has an interactive whiteboard: a superdooper connect t’internet and … interact … whiteboard.

And they both - that’s the Year 2 and Year 5 classes at least - watched a trail for the Narnia film.

This unsettles me hugely. They attend a Church Of England school because it is the nearest, it is a good school, and it’s important to Geroff and me for the kids to go to school with the neighbourhood kids. Not because it is CofE. Because it is CofE I can – sort of - understand the pimping of Christian allegory through the medium of interactive whiteboard, but shit and fucking hell, it’s advertising. Pure and simple.

How long and how, if not already, will the names creep in? Will McD’s ‘incentivise’ schools to display a small golden arsecheese at the top of the screen, which begins to blink at 11:45? Will Run Spot, run in Nike?

There is an interactive whiteboard pipeline direct to my kids in a place they trust. It won’t take long, the brands can smell it. If they haven’t already devised and funded it.

I don’t like this one little bit.

Wasn’t too keen on the film, either. Which, by the power of interactive whiteboard or otherwise, was the becoming traditional family cinema twixt Christmas and New Year visit choice for 2005. No adaptation betters my head Lion, Witch or Wardrobe, imprinted by reading the damn book. Simple.

The wardrobe is even at the wrong angle. I know. The kids, however, loved it.

it might as well be spring

There are four tidal pools of pressies on the living room floor; they spread, wash into each other, then pull away, leaving some of their original and taking something new. This won't end peacefully.

I dipped a tentative toe into the business of assimilating them into the house today. A bottle of port is now in the bottle of port box. Go me.

Christmas has been hibernation. Warm, curled and nesting. With sprouts.

Molster has been at her best friend’s tonight, and has been invited to stay. She needs pyjamas, toothbrush, hairbrush and clean top and undies. I am uncurling, waking up and shaking out to walk them up the road to her. And stay for a drink, of course, now the antibiotics are over.

Big yawn and a stretch. Come on brain, wake up. You’ve got to think of conversation. And talk. And shit.

all the food groups

Chocklit.


Chocklit.


Chocklit.


Chocklit.


Chocklit.


Chocklit.


Chocklit.


And Christmas Pussy.

god bless us, every one.

To the success of the feast
The success of the feast

To the boy who lived
The boy who lived

To the new Doctor Who
The new Doctor Who

And zombie penguins
Zombie penguins



Things To Do

Cake: Soak fruit in booze; chuck all the stuff together and cook; voodoo with more booze; marzipan; ice; eat.
Pressies: buy; wrap; distribute (wearing stiff gauntlet to save fingers). addendum: forget to give Suffolk ones to mum when she visits.
Pressies from kids: buy; make; wrap; post / give out.
Cards: buy / make; give out / post.
Decorations: consider putting up; put up ; take down.
Christmas dinner: yeah, right.
Booze: buy; drink; buy; drink; be bought; drink; buy; stop drinking for five days because of tooth abscess and antibiotics; drink; buy; drink; scrounge; drink; drink; drink; drink; buy; drink; drink; drink; drink; drink; drink; drink; drink; drink; drink; drink; drink (list in progress).

ha bumhug

You probably noticed it. In the middle of last week, the Last Chance To Order Before Christmas!! emails gradually, depending on the companies’ faith in their courier service, changed to Sale Now On! Great Bargains!. As I’m sitting smug on a pile of bought and wrapped pressies for those I love, those I like and those I feel obligated to buy for, all were deleted unread.

Who wants to shop for after Christmas when we’ve yet to have the grand unwrapping? Damn, we haven’t even opened a box of mince pies yet. Have yet to do the sprouts.

Imagine my surprise when I check Geroff’s account online and see a £99.99 purchase from Play dot com, dated next Wednesday.

Imagine his surprise. It seems I don’t have a lovely post-Christmas just-sub-£100 treat on its way to me.

Apparently the Christmas holiday is beloved by gits who steal card details, for using those details. The buggers.

Card is now cancelled, the department that deals with refunding our account is closed until Tuesday. We wait to see what other joys they’ve ordered. I have an irritated head about this, an irrational Oh, Will They Give Us The Money Back? drama head, a mocking £99.99 Ha! Is That Your Best Shot? Head, but most of all is my throbbing Ow, Won’t This Blasted Abscess Ever Go Away thump skull against the wall head.

Merry Christmas, One and All. Yes, you too. Just this once.


Things To Do

Cake: Soak fruit in booze; chuck all the stuff together and cook; voodoo with more booze; marzipan; ice; eat.
Pressies: buy; wrap; distribute (wearing stiff gauntlet to save fingers). addendum: forget to give Suffolk ones to mum when she visits.
Pressies from kids: buy; make; wrap; post / give out.
Cards: buy / make; give out / post.
Decorations: consider putting up; put up ; take down.
Christmas dinner: yeah, right.
Booze: buy; drink; buy; drink; be bought; drink; buy; stop drinking for five days because of tooth abscess and antibiotics; drink; buy; drink; scrounge; drink; drink; drink; drink; buy; drink; drink; drink; drink; drink; drink; drink; drink; drink; drink; drink; drink (list in progress).

you cannot solder an abscess with air

Apologies, Emily.

So it's not as easy as I thought.

I still hopped between Paramol and Ibroprofen, and inched each antibiotic a little earlier than it should have been taken.

I still shoved a table full of food that needed chewing in front of family and friends, drinking a litre of smoothie for myself for the day.

I still made it through the evening and wished friends a very merry christmas at the door, before begging off cleaning up and going straight up to bed.

And coming straight back down to write fifty words or over about how ruddy tricky it is to function with a rave in my jawbone.

Tomorrow will be better. Tonight Frosty will visit to leave something in the kids' advent calendar for the last time in 2005.

I love my husband. He takes care of me. And frowns at me for not being in bed.

being a grown up

The seasonal sore tooth has got big ideas and become the seasonal abscess.

Seasonal because it happened four Christmases ago. Same tooth.

But my, my, my, how I have grown. Four years ago found me deep in disbelief that a couple of days of ibroprofen wouldn’t get rid of a sore tooth. When the infection reached my throat - on Christmas Eve, of course - I visited the doctor, not the dentist, got told it was viral and sent home to sit it out.

Oh pain. My theory is that toothache hurts so ruddy much because the tooth is relatively near the brain, so a tooth pain whisper sounds like a shout. Not that an abscess whispers.

Christmas day was spent pale and sideways. It was a poor, sorry sight that whimpered her pathetic arse to the emergency docs on Boxing Day four years ago. Antibiotics were finally dispensed, by an emergency doc that knew damn well it was dental but pitied me so much she kindly diagnosed an infected salivary gland.

And the healing began. But not until I learned just how easy it was to vomit when you can only open your mouth by half an inch. Answer: it is not at all easy.

Anyway: but my, my, my, how I have grown. This year I made a large pot of lentil soup and phoned the dentist yesterday, as soon as I knew the toothache was only going to go one way. An emergency appointment was made for first thing this morning, and antibiotics prescribed. We’ve left the tooth to be sorted out the other side of Christmas. Best not to poke it.

So, I am in big, huge, shapely, mouth, neck and ear abscess-sized pain, but I have the stuff to shoot it down this side of Christmas day.

Leaving me wincing but able. Able to wrap and dispense and entertain and cook and all without a drop of rough tough and rollicking Christmas booze.

Oh, bollocks.


Things To Do

Cake: Soak fruit in booze; chuck all the stuff together and cook; voodoo with more booze; marzipan; ice; eat.
Pressies: buy; wrap; distribute (wearing stiff gauntlet to save fingers). addendum: forget to give Suffolk ones to mum when she visits.
Pressies from kids: buy; make; wrap; post / give out.
Cards: buy / make; give out / post.
Decorations: consider putting up; put up ; take down.
Christmas dinner: yeah, right.
Booze: buy; drink; buy; drink; be bought; drink; buy; drink; buy; drink; scrounge; drink; drink; drink; drink; buy; drink; drink; drink; drink; drink; drink; drink; drink; drink; drink; drink; drink (list in progress).

capricorn

Winter Solstice, the day disappears from the ground up.

As it reaches the rooftops, I rootle for the secateurs, push my feet into garden shoes, and go out into the soft drizzle.

This year, the thing on the Close is preternaturally large inflatable Father Christmases, Snowmen, and one Homer Simpson (in a Father Christmas hat. He never seems to be fully inflated, so spends his days slumped, bob-feeding from nextdoor's wheelie bin). Last year and the year before the Close virus was gaudy outdoor loops and icicles of flashing bulbs. Last year’s bulbs meet this year’s inflatables, in a blink and a blur of where shop ends and home begins.

Inflatables, bulbs, and brash Christmas tunes from a party at the end of the Close. All lighting up the silhouette of rooftop against watercolour winter sky.

At the foot of the garden I hunt out the Blackpool of bushes, and cut its glitziest branches.




Things To Do

Cake: Soak fruit in booze; chuck all the stuff together and cook; voodoo with more booze; marzipan; ice; eat.
Pressies: buy; wrap; distribute (wearing stiff gauntlet to save fingers). addendum: forget to give Suffolk ones to mum when she visits.
Pressies from kids: buy; make; wrap; post / give out.
Cards: buy / make; give out / post.
Decorations: consider putting up; put up ; take down.
Christmas dinner: yeah, right.
Booze: buy; drink; buy; drink; be bought; drink; buy; drink; buy; drink; scrounge; drink; drink; drink; drink; buy; drink; drink; drink; drink; drink; drink; drink; drink; drink; drink; drink; drink (list in progress).

Genuflect

heliacally rising

In Prague, we were charmed by and bought a small nativity scene.



Joseph has the blue dress here, while Mary – the hussy – gets red. They both look happy and startled, as though someone they’ve fancied for quite a while has nipped them on the bum. Baby Jesus also looks startled: he’s not quite certain what it’s all about, but wahey. A definite touch of Hitchhiker’s Guide whale about this Baby Jesus.

A nativity scene isn’t something I thought of having before I saw this one. There’s no clutter of supporting cast: no shepherds, heavenly host, innkeeper, or three kings bringing Mould, Grrr and Frankenstein (honest, Zig, that’s what they took, ignore what the songs say, I'm your mum, would I lie?). Baby Jesus, Mary, Joseph, stable, and that star.

That star. I wink at the star and it winks back.

Christians the world over celebrate the story of the nativity as validation of the beginnings of their faith. I celebrate the story of the nativity as validation that two millennia of Church insecurity can’t knock what I do on the head. That central to the story of the birth of their saviour are some blokes interpreting a portent in the sky.

I skipped the carol service this year. Wonder if the vicar gave the same sermon as last. He is very sweet, and tries very hard to be open. I like him. He beamed as he called the magi astronomers. Astronomers. Oh, for fuck sake vicar, how does the methodology of astronomy find a Messiah? Come on vic, say the word, spit it out. Constantine was a long while ago, and you know the man had issues. Say. The. Word.

Just for me.


Things To Do

Cake: Soak fruit in booze; chuck all the stuff together and cook; voodoo with more booze; marzipan; ice; eat.
Pressies: buy; wrap; distribute (wearing stiff gauntlet to save fingers). addendum: forget to give Suffolk ones to mum when she visits.
Pressies from kids: buy; make; wrap; post / give out.
Cards: buy / make; give out / post.
Decorations: consider putting up; put up ; take down.
Christmas dinner: yeah, right.
Booze: buy; drink; buy; drink; be bought; drink; buy; drink; buy; drink; scrounge; drink; drink; drink; drink; buy; drink; drink; drink; drink; drink; drink; drink; drink; drink; drink; drink; drink (list in progress).

as the evening wore on

it softened.

The day-old fruit scone and luke-warm vomit-flavoured latte special at an anonymous American chain, softened to strawberry ice cream and gin and tonic on a banquette at my favourite theatre.

The sharp elbows and sharp voices of a pre-Christmas city department store, softened to whispers to partners and banquette hooching-ups for strangers.

The mouthings of Wanker to twats who block the busy road then pretend to ignore you, softened to applause, and a bit more applause, because we were in no rush to leave.

The evening wore on. That's a nice expression. With your permission I'll say it again. The evening wore on.

If you’re in the neighbourhood, pop in and visit the pooka.



Things To Do

Cake: Soak fruit in booze; chuck all the stuff together and cook; voodoo with more booze; marzipan; ice; eat.
Pressies: buy; wrap; distribute (wearing stiff gauntlet to save fingers). addendum: forget to give Suffolk ones to mum when she visits.
Pressies from kids: buy; make; wrap; post / give out.
Cards: buy / make; give out / post.
Decorations: consider putting up; put up ; take down.
Christmas dinner: yeah, right.
Booze: buy; drink; buy; drink; be bought; drink; buy; drink; buy; drink; scrounge; drink; drink; drink; drink; buy; drink; drink; drink; drink; drink; drink; drink; drink; drink; drink; drink; drink (list in progress).

and there was no room on the tree. bollocks, no.

Shayne!

Air was punched.

Anyway.

Because Fimo™ is generally too hard to fiddle with, it’s recommended that you tuck the blocks into your back pocket or your bra for half an hour or so before use.

Because we were using a fair bit for the bobbinses last week, and what with the cut of my jib there’s not an awful lot of room in my back pocket or my bra, I stuck it all on the radiator.

Because I am brilliant, I deduced that Fimo™ kept on the softening radiator would stay softened until we needed it again.

Because the days are cold, the nights were colder, the radiators rarely off, and Fimo™ bakes at gas mark a half, keeping it on the Fimo™ softening radiator all week until needed again did not go according to plan. (If anyone would like any cunningly crafted Fimo™ ... blocks ... of solid Fimo ... let me know.)

Because I bought a lot of Fimo™ from eBay (because, dammit, I was not going to be beaten in an auction) there was a bit left.

Because I had the arsehole™ with Fimo™, Geroff took over Christmas Fimo™ With Kids duties.

Behold! Bubba Gabriel:




And his très Matt and Trey heavenly host:





Things To Do

Cake: Soak fruit in booze; chuck all the stuff together and cook; voodoo with more booze; marzipan; ice; eat.
Pressies: buy; wrap; distribute (wearing stiff gauntlet to save fingers). addendum: forget to give Suffolk ones to mum when she visits.
Pressies from kids: buy; make; wrap; post / give out.
Cards: buy / make; give out / post.
Decorations: consider putting up; put up ; take down.
Christmas dinner: yeah, right.
Booze: buy; drink; buy; drink; be bought; drink; buy; drink; buy; drink; scrounge; drink; drink; drink; drink; buy; drink; drink; drink; drink; drink; drink; drink; drink; drink; drink; drink; drink (list in progress).

cold outdoor parties and hot indoor tension

The coldest Christmas party in the world today took place in the indoor barn of a Riding for the Disabled center somewhere high up in the north west of England.

Party!

but

Cold. So cold.

but

Party!

but

Cold. So cold.

And because I am nice and kind and giving in this season of niceness, kindness and givingness, I let Geroff keep warm by running around with Zig, while I stayed still and cold. So cold.

We came home to no mulled wine. Mulled wine would’ve warmed us from our thingies to our whatsits. Mulled wine was needed.

Note to self: next year, take a flask.

Now I’m flexing my thawing dialing finger for the off. Shayne or Andy, Andy or Shayne? I’m torn. Shayne is from Manchester, and is every potwasher I ever mothered in my bar days there, the sweetie ... Andy did that thing with Lately last week … Damn it all, Brenda, where are you?


Things To Do

Cake: Soak fruit in booze; chuck all the stuff together and cook; voodoo with more booze; marzipan; ice; eat.
Pressies: buy; wrap; distribute (wearing stiff gauntlet to save fingers). addendum: forget to give Suffolk ones to mum when she visits.
Pressies from kids: buy; make; wrap; post / give out.
Cards: buy / make; give out / post.
Decorations: consider putting up; put up; take down.
Christmas dinner: yeah, right.
Booze: buy; drink; buy; drink; be bought; drink; buy; drink; buy; drink; scrounge; drink; drink; drink; drink; buy; drink; drink; drink; drink; drink; drink; drink; drink; drink; drink; drink; drink (list in progress).

make it big. fantastic.

I can explain why Last Christmas is squeezed between Jockey Full Of Bourbon and Pas Si Simple on my shuffle. No really, I can. It’s for educational purposes. Training purposes. It’s for Molster.

Last night, in front of assorted tables of assorted mums, dads, brothers, sisters, and miscellaneous, Molster stood - all cloakless, tinsel-haloed prog rock god - at a fancypants keyboard, and played Last Christmas. Very well. With all the twiddly bits and everything.

All right, so there aren’t really that many twiddly bits to Last Christmas. In fact a lot – a lot - of Last Christmas goes:

Derderderderderderderderderderder der dader
Derderderderderderderderderderder der dader
Dadadadadadadadadadada da dada
Derderderderderderderderderderder der dader

And this she did. With the rest. The twiddly bits.

Despite people holding me down last night and force feeding me dirty booze, I managed to film it rather well. My video camera is decidedly non-digital, being the size of the suitcase you'd have to take were you only allowed to take one suitcase on a three month cruise, crank powered, and full of midgets chipping individual film cells into lumps of slate. Were it not I would certainly share the joy of Yamaha derderder with twiddly bits.

Mol, I am very, very proud of you. I can’t play Last Christmas on a keyboard, not the derderder, not the twiddly bits. I can’t even remember how to play Jingle Bells on the chime bars, which was the highlight of my childhood musical triumph. You, in Wham terms, rock.

So you see, I can explain why Last Christmas is squeezed between Tom Waits and Yann Tierson. Give me a minute or three and I’ll come up with an excuse for Wake Me Up Before You Go Go



Things To Do

Cake: Soak fruit in booze; chuck all the stuff together and cook; voodoo with more booze; marzipan; ice; eat.
Pressies: buy; wrap; distribute (wearing stiff gauntlet to save fingers). addendum: forget to give Suffolk ones to mum when she visits.
Pressies from kids: buy; make; wrap; post / give out.
Cards: buy / make; give out / post.
Decorations: consider putting up; put up; take down.
Christmas dinner: yeah, right.
Booze: buy; drink; buy; drink; be bought; drink; buy; drink; buy; drink; scrounge; drink; drink; drink; drink; buy; drink; drink; drink; drink; drink; drink; drink; drink; drink; drink; drink; drink (list in progress).

by the magic of television

He scores! Sort of! And it’s in the back of the net! And the crowd goes wild!



The image link should lead straight to a QuickTime download (no audio). If there are any problems, let me know. I won’t be able to solve them, as I haven’t a clue what I’m doing, but it would still be good to know.


No, that's not a dress, that’s a Junior League football top on a rather small six year old. Brownie points for anyone who can identify the superhero transfer on the back of Zig’s splints (it’s not Spiderman; Spiderman graced the last pair, and will probably grace the next, if only because the Evil Nemsesist NHS does not provide orthotic transfers of baddies. Curses).

A couple of seconds of this or similar Ziggy footage (arf) begins a current BBC trail for Junior League football.

I don’t know what to make of it, really. Stand on a chilly faux grass field for an hour or so on a Sunday morning. Shoot , reshoot and shoot again a small boy with C.P kicking / missing a ball into / away from a goal. Shoot, reshoot and shoot again that small boy cheering and celebrating with genuine fona bide Junior Leaguers. Fiddle with it all for a while and voila: Zig scores a goal.

Got to be good, hasn’t it? Still, when I watch it I feel as mixed up, muddled up and shook up as a Kinks narrative voice.

Thanks Reg.



Things To Do

Cake: Soak fruit in booze; chuck all the stuff together and cook; voodoo with more booze; marzipan; ice; eat.
Pressies: buy; wrap; distribute (wearing stiff gauntlet to save fingers). addendum: forget to give Suffolk ones to mum when she visits.
Pressies from kids: buy; make; wrap; post / give out.
Cards: buy / make; give out / post.
Decorations: consider putting up; put up; take down.
Christmas dinner: yeah, right.
Booze: buy; drink; buy; drink; be bought; drink; buy; drink; buy; drink; scrounge; drink; drink; drink; drink; buy; drink; drink; drink; drink; drink; drink; drink; drink; drink; drink; drink; drink (list in progress).

hoppit

I’m not a good partner. I’m grumpy and removed and not at all tactile. I frown and always have a better idea. I am not lightheartedly, quirkily, desirably at ease with my inability to keep a house clean or tidy. I do not use sex as a release from stress or a rumpshuss celebration of being together; rather, my libido is safely packed in three layers of bubble wrap until the day we land on a clean beach, with plenty of food, a promise of eternal good health for our children, a pleasantly appointed house where shore meets forest, which needs no repair or repainting, and no council tax bills. And no people. I am as prickly as an October conker shell.

I am solitary at heart. My superpower is a reddybrek glow of partner repellent ninety-eight point seven percent of the time, day or night.

But I do like the short phonecalls, the three word texts of abbreviated interest and concern. In Standard English only, please. I rely on them as lilypads across Monday to Friday.

And when it’s gone sixteen hours without a ring or a bleep from our capital city, I get a smidge unsettled. And glower from under my rock.


eta: ta


Things To Do

Cake: Soak fruit in booze; chuck all the stuff together and cook; voodoo with more booze; marzipan; ice; eat.
Pressies: buy; wrap; distribute (wearing stiff gauntlet to save fingers). addendum: forget to give Suffolk ones to mum when she visits.
Pressies from kids: buy; make; wrap; post / give out.
Cards: buy / make; give out / post.
Decorations: consider putting up; put up; take down.
Christmas dinner: yeah, right.
Booze: buy; drink; buy; drink; be bought; drink; buy; drink; buy; drink; scrounge; drink; drink; drink; drink; buy; drink; drink; drink; drink; drink; drink; drink; drink; drink; drink; drink; drink (list in progress).

solve et coagula

I cheer up a bit when I realise how much magic I manage everyday.

Just made the second batch of rice krispie cakes this week, for the second kiddies’ Christmas party. How many kids, since the fabulous Mr Kellogg flaked some corn and puffed some rice, have had their cooking annunciation by stirring melting chocolate in a bain marie, shaking in however much breakfast cereal it can hold, and stuffing a spoon of the glop into a bun case?

That’s the magic I’m talking about.

The mystery of magic is the mystery of alchemy is the mystery of cooking: it’s the gaps in our understanding. Within this understanding, it’s a bit easier to melt chocolate in a bain marie that it is to bubble nigredo in a sealed alembic. I’m unconvinced, but my days are rushed and I’ve yet to find Prima Materia in the homebake aisle. Even in Lidl.

I turn into a right Hermes Trismagistus in the kitchen, but don’t reckon I’ll be rushing to add Jamie Oliver’s Emerald Tablet to my Amazon wishlist.

If I turned chocolate to gold there would be a class full of pissed off bling six-year-olds tomorrow.

In this way the little world was created according to the great world.

Pucker.



Things To Do

Cake: Soak fruit in booze; chuck all the stuff together and cook; voodoo with more booze; marzipan; ice; eat.
Pressies: buy; wrap; distribute (wearing stiff gauntlet to save fingers). addendum: forget to give Suffolk ones to mum when she visits.
Pressies from kids: buy; make; wrap; post / give out.
Cards: buy / make; give out / post.
Decorations: consider putting up; put up; take down.
Christmas dinner: yeah, right.
Booze: buy; drink; buy; drink; be bought; drink; buy; drink; buy; drink; scrounge; drink; drink; drink; drink; buy; drink; drink; drink; drink; drink; drink; drink; drink; drink; drink; drink; drink (list in progress).

god rest ye irritating git

It’s not until I become irritated trying to rethread a bauble that I remember he died and was buried at this time of year.

I don’t have a shortcut to remembering the calendar details of his death and burial. I remember hanging the cerebral palsy angel on the tree, which means he died after we’d received Zig’s diagnosis; C.P angel’s legs were still tightly crossed that year, which means it was the first year we had her, which means it was 2000, which means he would have been 38.

Although I’ve got 36 in my head. Perhaps the edge to dieing suddenly, alone – allegedly – in bed aged 36, is dulled just slightly by its being 38. I don’t see it myself, but the drama of dieing young is a funny beast.

He would have loved the drama. The pathos. The grief of half a handful of women weeping at his coffin and his graveside. Which is one of several reasons I didn’t go to his funeral. The main one being I couldn’t be arsed, and felt irritated at having been asked.

Irritation was more than a floral top note of our relationship. Last night I wrapped (ignore that if the idea of wrapping pressies already gives you a bit of a panic) a stocking-filler for Zig: a pair of zeppelin-shaped magnets that crackle like the devil when you throw them together. That was our years together: a constant, electric, polar crackle.

Bloody irritating.

I was irritated at my assumption that I was self-aware enough at eighteen to find a true friend and lover for life. Irritated that I couldn’t chop off all the bits of my drives and dreams and personality that would make me the perfect fit for his. Irritated that he would want me to be.

He was irritated that I would never behave. Irritated that I’d question his absences, and then question and question again his lazy, careless, clumsy lies. He was irritated that nobody else smelled like me, and that I didn’t act the way I smelled.

I was irritated that his full chest laughter would have me laughing along, every time. Irritated that, although he liked big boobs, the black lacy bra he gave me one late Christmas was both padded and two sizes too small.

We were both insanely, underskin histamine inflamed irritated that somehow some glitch in the narrative made too hot, too cold, too big, too small, too hard, too soft, of what should have been just right.

He was irritated that I was Liz; I was irritated that he was Billy, and he knew that I didn’t want milk.

I was irritated that he was scared of growing old, and I wanted someone to grow old alongside. Irritated that when he learned that growing old was not at all bad; that being a faithful partner had a lot going for it; that being a parent was a terrible, ecstatic experience, it wouldn’t be safe to sit alongside him in a pub with a couple of pints of Thwaites and wonder about the wonder of it all.

Even though we has no shared friends at the end – although I only lived a couple of dozen miles from him, I was very careful that he never found out – I heard about his death on the day they found his body.

I put the phone down and howled. Screamed and stamped and wailed and rent and gnashed and and kicked and stomped and dripped gunge and all that. I thought I was sad that he would never learn that growing older is not at all bad; that being a faithful partner has a lot going for it; that being a parent is a terrible, ecstatic experience.

I thought I was grieving.

It’s not until now, today, feeling irritated by a bauble that doesn’t want to be rethread, that I recognise in the irritation a portion, a shaving, a whiff or a sniff or a ghost of this time five years ago, and realise I wasn’t grieving.

I was bloody furious.



Things To Do

Cake: Soak fruit in booze; chuck all the stuff together and cook; voodoo with more booze; marzipan; ice; eat.
Pressies: buy; wrap; distribute (wearing stiff gauntlet to save fingers). addendum: forget to give Suffolk ones to mum when she visits.
Pressies from kids: buy; make; wrap; post / give out.
Cards: buy / make; give out / post.
Decorations: consider putting up; put up; take down.
Christmas dinner: yeah, right.
Booze: buy; drink; buy; drink; be bought; drink; buy; drink; buy; drink; scrounge; drink; drink; drink; drink; buy; drink; drink; drink; drink; drink; drink; drink; drink; drink; drink; drink; drink (list in progress).

q

The sort of queues I don’t mind … mum observed, in the car on the way to Bury, on the way to the tram, on the way to Manchester - I’m filling her suspenseful pause with this lengthy ellipsis … are the kind where you stand in a line.

It was about here – no, it was exactly here – that Gruff and I made plenty of room for an even longer ellipsis.

So we caught the tram to the city and had a mother daughter Saturday pre-Christmas thorough exploration of my mother’s queue preference.


Things To Do

Cake: Soak fruit in booze; chuck all the stuff together and cook; voodoo with more booze; marzipan; ice; eat.
Pressies: buy; wrap; distribute (wearing stiff gauntlet to save fingers). addendum: forget to give Suffolk ones to mum when she visits.
Pressies from kids: buy; make; wrap; post / give out.
Cards: buy / make; give out / post.
Decorations: consider putting up; put up; take down.
Christmas dinner: yeah, right.
Booze: buy; drink; buy; drink; be bought; drink; buy; drink; buy; drink; scrounge; drink; drink; drink; drink; buy; drink; drink; drink; drink; drink; drink; drink; drink; drink; drink; drink; drink (list in progress).

bob bob bobbins

When you’ve got kids, you can:

· Gather up your scrap pieces of Fimo™, stick them in a plastic bag, and keep them in your back pocket, squished against your bum, until they soften.

· Spend half an hour of therapeutic venting punching, pummelling, plaiting and pleading with the scraps to mix, until you get brown. Crap brown.

· Holler the kids, and with them rip the brown lump into thirteen smaller lumps, punch and pummel it some more, add little red, white, black and gold Fimo™ dabs to the brown, in approximately biologically appropriate places, and stab each through the head twice, with a pin.



· Cook them, string them up, and post them off to relatives who are contractually obligated to go oo and ah




· Give crap.





I’d like to assure anyone who might be concerned, that our robins will not be homed separately. They will travel to their new trees in groups of at least two, usually three. Robins being aggressively territorial, so this should be a laugh. Thirteen Fimo™ robins were pummelled, stretched, mangled, squeezed, rolled, pulled, poked with holes, baked, and strung up for the making of this seasonal art project.


Things To Do

Cake: Soak fruit in booze; chuck all the stuff together and cook; voodoo with more booze; marzipan; ice; eat.
Pressies: buy; wrap; distribute (wearing stiff gauntlet to save fingers). addendum: forget to give Suffolk ones to mum when she visits.
Pressies from kids: buy; make; wrap; post / give out.
Cards: buy / make; give out / post.
Decorations: consider putting up; put up; take down.
Christmas dinner: yeah, right.
Booze: buy; drink; buy; drink; be bought; drink; buy; drink; buy; drink; scrounge; drink; drink; drink; drink; buy; drink; drink; drink; drink; drink; drink; drink; drink; drink; drink; drink; drink (list in progress).

the season for giving

A home day. Zig, coming down from the adrenaline of one dress rehearsal and two days of performance Joseph, has collapsed in a coughing, groaning heap on the sofa.

So Molster had a solo walk to school. One of the hefty responsibilities of life as a class counsellor is to go in a bit early on Fridays, to help chop all the gubbins for Fruity Friday – they like their Fridays fruity in Lancashire. It’s a simple walk, a few hundred yards up a single straight road.

As the sun was lower as it would be if she left at the normal time, I lifted a reflective armband down from the hall keyhook, and worked it up around her right coat sleeve. Changing my mind, I dragged it off, and hooked it back up on her left arm. She walks on a right-hand path up to the school, so the armband would be on the side of the oncoming traffic.

Mol reckoned the armband might be of more use on her right arm, all the better for unexpected oncoming cars to see her as she crossed the couple of quiet residential roads between home and school.

I pulled it down off the left and hooked it back up onto the right.

And off she went, with a kiss and no gloves and a hope for a good day, the sky pink and one-eyed around her.

She’s growing up. I’m paying out the cord between us: bright, white nylon, guy rope tough. Should I forget, or resist, wrapping it round my wrist and a rock while I reread a clause in my mother contract, she tugs and discovers it gives.

I’m useless against this. This give. When my nine year old suggests her reflective armband would be better on the side of the sudden, unexpected traffic, I mutely move it across.





Things To Do

Cake: Soak fruit in booze; chuck all the stuff together and cook; voodoo with more booze; marzipan; ice; eat.
Pressies: buy; wrap; distribute (wearing stiff gauntlet to save fingers). addendum: forget to give Suffolk ones to mum when she visits.
Pressies from kids: buy; make; wrap; post / give out.
Cards: buy / make; give out / post.
Decorations: consider putting up; put up; take down.
Christmas dinner: yeah, right.
Booze: buy; drink; buy; drink; be bought; drink; buy; drink; buy; drink; scrounge; drink; drink; drink; drink; buy; drink; drink; drink; drink; drink; drink; drink; drink; drink; drink; drink; drink (list in progress).

teatowels

Oi, lady with the head.

I’m concerned that you sticking your head in front of my camera over and again might compromise your www anonymity. I’d hate for someone to snatch this photo of you, for use in advertising cheese, or bad hair porn. Your head has the random bounce of a parent in her first year of Nativity play attendance. That’s sweet, but I’m sure you won’t mind if this old hand of six Key Stage 1 Nativites in a row raises that old hand to flick your ear. This is my last Nativity play, you see. Now shift.




Oi, bloke with the head.

I know you. I like you. My son likes your son and your son likes my son. But when my camera auto focuses on your head because you are sat in the front row – and probably missed lunch to nab those three seats for yourself, your nice wife and nice mother, and didn’t think to save a couple more for my adequately lunched self and my husband, also your friend – that, I don’t like.

Ta for showing me your perfectly focused, unobliterated-by-mass-head front row shots of my son.

My son. Joseph. The one in front of your son. A shepherd.

Yes, you’re right, they’re great shots. And yes, I would very much like copies. Ta.

(Your neck looks fat. Just saying.)



Oi, ghost.

It's not big, and it's not clever.




Oi, shaky hands.

Damn you, shaky hands.




Oi, Joseph.



Nice dress.


Things To Do

Cake: Soak fruit in booze; chuck all the stuff together and cook; voodoo with more booze; marzipan; ice; eat.
Pressies: buy; wrap; distribute (wearing stiff gauntlet to save fingers). addendum: forget to give Suffolk ones to mum when she visits.
Pressies from kids: buy; make; wrap; post / give out.
Cards: buy / make; give out / post.
Decorations: consider putting up; put up; take down.
Christmas dinner: yeah, right.
Booze: buy; drink; buy; drink; be bought; drink; buy; drink; buy; drink; scrounge; drink; drink; drink; drink; buy; drink; drink; drink; drink; drink; drink; drink; drink; drink; drink; drink; drink (list in progress).

distant drums

Highways Dept workmen have been messing around on the road outside for a couple of weeks now. Spreading half a dozen rectangles of orange tarmac, leaving it for a couple of days (the excitement, orange tarmac, what could it be for? Will it be an admittedly risky chessboard? A communal arts blank tarmac canvas project to lure the teenagers back to the straight and narrow with a brush and an invitation to Create! Flowers! Birds! Hills!? Have Bury MBC developed a yen for a bit of warm Mediterranean?) before returning to daub SLOW in white across the centre of each.

Gosh, thanks. Give it to them, they wrote each SLOW the right way round for the respective carriageway; there will be no bumps, prangs or scrapes as drivers strain to work out what WOIS is warning them about. WOIS? Wois a WOIS? Is it like a Woozle?

Drivers, go careful, drive WOOZLE.

As it’s getting near the end of the financial year there’s previously sat on chunks of budget to be used up sharpish on rivers of orange tarmac, oceans of white paint. Still, as a traffic calming measure it stinks: they haven’t given us bumps to make certain drivers going above 15mph will Bo and Luke it against the roof of their Corsa; they haven’t lowered the speed limit from the standard 30mph for built-up areas. They’ve given us a white word on an orange rectangle.

I knew when they were working, by the low, distant drumming of their generator. I heard it when I woke at 6:30 this morning, and thought they’d got an early start. Taking the kids to school I realised the road was clear, the SLOWs gleaming up through the frozen fog. I could still hear the generator, though, and shook away a Richard Carpenter image of ghostly, grudge-holding workmen slowly banging on each front door. Waiting, just waiting, until the awful moment when some fool will open, to be given an orange tarmac-stained mug of tea, as orange as ... tarmac, and a copy of yesterday’s Sun.

Sadly this was not to be. It would have been wonderful for house prices, and easy to get a foreigner done on driveway resurfacing, so long as you don’t mind orange. With a big WOOZLE across it in white.

The distant drumming is in my head. A brand new tinnitus tone, to join Barbershop Hum, Spincycle Whine, and 1970’s BBC1 After 11:30pm. It’s me that’s got the workmen in.

It might be that I’ve seen both Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind and Vanilla Sky this year, but I’m wondering how long it will be before they get busy. That woodland track we walked through Bradfield Woods in 1994: did we really step across that rectangle? That large, orange rectangle? Charles Bridge in 2002: beneath the Czech vendors’ stalls of enamelled pendants and wood carvings, could I really see that large S, a T, a bit of a P?

Nah, I’m being daft, these are workmen. They haven’t even had their second brew yet, not even glanced at the sports pages. My memories are safe.



Things To Do

Cake: Soak fruit in booze; chuck all the stuff together and cook; voodoo with more booze; marzipan; ice; eat.
Pressies: buy; wrap; distribute (wearing stiff gauntlet to save fingers). addendum: forget to give Suffolk ones to mum when she visits.
Pressies from kids: buy; make; wrap; post / give out.
Cards: buy / make; give out / post.
Decorations: consider putting up; put up; take down.
Christmas dinner: yeah, right.
Booze: buy; drink; buy; drink; be bought; drink; buy; drink; buy; drink; scrounge; drink; drink; drink; drink; buy; drink; drink; drink; drink; drink; drink; drink; drink; drink; drink; drink; drink (list in progress).

eh? early morning discussion

Even though I’m different from everybody else at school because of my cerebral palsy, even though, if I didn’t have friends, know what? I think I’d be bullied.

…

If someone feels so unhappy that they want to bully someone, it doesn’t matter what the difference is. It could be that they don’t like your haircut; it could be that they think your nose is a funny shape; it could be that you speak in a different way; it could be …

… that you have three nipples …

… yes, perhaps you’ve got three nipples …

… or webbed feet …

… yes, or webbed feet …

The discussion went sort-of sideways from there.