New Year visitors
Merrily singing away to 98FM this morning at the kitchen sink, and all of a sudden this lot appear on the back field. I’ve no idea where they came from but B is very excited and quite keen to have a walk all of a sudden.
‘Resomalutions’
#1 once made a ‘resomalution’ that he would not smoke. Seeing as he was about seven at the time, he managed to keep it the whole year. Impressive. I always seem to make the same sort of resolutions, you know the ones: cut down on my red wine consumption, stop telling the children to shut up, not eat five pieces of toast and marmite in the morning, walk the dog further than once round the house when it’s raining, live for today, stop moaning, yada yada yada…
So this year I’m going to be proactive and give myself goals I can actually achieve, rather than guiltily promising to give up things I enjoy and know damned well I’ll be doing by 5th January. So, without further ado, here are my resolutions for 2007:
1. I will sign up for a journalism course and get something (anything!) published.
2. I will try harder to stop crap accumulating on every spare surface in my house (notice I said ‘try harder’ – bit of leeway there)
3. I will continue to cherish and appreciate my friends and family and take less notice of people that don’t matter and/or annoy the pants off me, I will live for today, enjoy the present, stop moaning (oops there I go again)…
I can think of loads of others, but they’re not really resolutions, just a bit of a desperate wish list, which I’ll have to write down somewhere else because I don’t want you lot thinking I’m a total blouse. I’ve already gone down in your estimation by going to bed at 9.30 on New Year’s Eve. C lasted until 4.30am for God’s sake. Mind you, she has such nice hair, and I think that must make a difference to your capacity for partying.
Hubby reckons he’s going to get fit, but coming from someone who can do half an hour at full pelt on the running machine and hardly break into a sweat, I’m not exactly sure what that means. I, on the other hand, am going to eat enough chocolate and drink enough red wine to make me look like Bernard Manning in women’s clothing by this time next year. You have been warned.
B is going to try and get a bit more sleep, oh, and have a few more naps, and maybe just rest a little in the afternoon. Being a greyhound is so tiring, you know.
#1 is going to stop biting his nails, and the skin around his nails, and those little annoying bits that stick up off the skin around his nails…ooh, there’s one, just let me….(cue sound of me smacking his hand away from his mouth again).
#2 doesn’t really give a sod about anything, but has been forcibly persuaded into resolving to eat more fruit and vegetables. Although I don’t think resolutions count if they’re induced by someone threatening to take your Playstation away.
Oh, and I won’t smoke, unless, as Hubby helpfully pointed out, I’m on fire. Funny.
Happy New Year!
Still all feeling rather jetlagged, we were delighted to be invited up to spend New Year’s Eve with J. It was fantastic seeing B again. We crept in and surprised her and she was a bit nonplussed at first, but then seemed to realise who we were and did happy little hoppity skips all round J’s kitchen, attaching herself to Hubby’s side and leaning on him so hard it nearly knocked him over. We all got a good wash (unheard of, so she must have been happy) and it was just lovely. She’s put on a good deal of weight at Auntie J’s and is looking significantly better for it. I have to say that I think we’ve been starving the poor girl and J has given us a new feeding regime to carry on with.
J looked fantastic, with a new urchin haircut which reminded me of a 20s flapper, showing off her pretty face and making her look even younger than she already is (cow!). C had told her that he was worried she would turn into a mad old dog lady with frizzy hair and hairy cardies, and had forced her down the hairdresser and made her throw out her beloved red jumper. The scoundrel – wait ’til I see that boy. Still, she looks fab. Dinner was awesome. We had the most beautiful tender Irish beef (I keep telling you it’s yummy) in a gorgeous thick onion gravy, with rather spectacular crispy roasties, creamy mash and a delectable carrot and swede puree which even #2 managed to try (a miracle!), then the most fabulous chocolate and raspberry torte. Happily stuffed and topped up to the brim with a rather nice red wine, we chatted the afternoon away, leaving, as usual, with piles of books and CDs that J had recommended and insisted that we borrow, plus a rather plush new coat for B. Some people just are just thoroughly nice through and through, and J is one of them.
Home then, to slob in front of the TV and watch Robots, then straight to bed without even seeing in the New Year we were that tired. No, not even a glass of Morgan’s Spiced. God we’re getting old. I felt especially old after finding a text from R on my phone, which was sent at some ungodly hour in the morning wishing us happy New Year, the party animal. Ah well, here’s wishing you everything you dream of in 2007. Happy New Year!
