My apologies to anyone who has been waiting with bated breath for a post from me. (What exactly is bated? An obsolete version of “abated” meaning restrained, held back, I suppose. When the doctor approaches with a stethoscope, he could say “Bate your breath!” Would you know what to do?) (And that digression probably proves that I’m still ADD. Look, did you see that robin? Behind the goats?)
Well, it has been a busy time, and when I wasn’t busy I’ve been lazy and recovering from my busy spells. Busy, not dizzy! Though there were moments when the two were pretty close. Blogging, I’m afraid, wasn’t really an option in the last month, as it has all gone by in a blur and if I didn’t have a few photos on my phone and iPad I’d have difficulty in piecing it all together. Overall, it has been positive, with much accomplished and (whisper this, I don’t want to tempt fate!) I may even get my driving licence back! Fingers and toes all crossed.
I avoided the horrors of Christmas shopping by making a donation to one of my favourite charities, Tearfund, and told everyone their present had been given to some poor soul who desperately needed it. I even managed to send out at least 50 Christmas cards, in spite of having told everyone on my Facebook page and e-mail list that they weren’t going to get one, thereby saving about another 100.
There was a slight upset on the 23rd when the washing machine suddenly turned into a miniature Niagara Falls, but I caught it in time and – oh serendipity! – my cousin arrived bearing gifts and departed with my soaking laundry, which she finished off and returned the next day. What a blessing! Considering that my mother bought that washing machine in 1990, it has lasted extremely well. “Well done, thou good and faithful servant!” This week I hope to find out if it can be repaired or if we need to buy a new one.
My mother also survived her “holiday” in a care home, where she was well looked after and very well fed, but she was glad to be back for Christmas: there’s no place like home, after all, and when you have lived in the same house for almost 80 years, there really is no substitute. Even though the oven doesn’t work, meaning that we had to pot-roast our stuffed turkey breast joint, Christmas dinner was the usual traditional plateful, including sprouts (ugh!) and sautéed parsnips (mmh!) in place of roast ones. Generous neighbours kindly provided roast potatoes and balls of stuffing, and a dear friend brought us a Christmas pudding and iced rich fruit cake, so nothing was missing. The Queen timed her speech perfectly for us, allowing a post-prandial snooze for my mother afterwards.
The Old Year is creaking to a close, and who knows what the New Year will bring? No doubt its usual mixture of positive and negative: but whatever that may be, I wish you all a happy and healthy 2016, and may all the dark clouds have brilliant silver linings.