The pre-Christmas preparation is over. Work, cards, present-hunting, housework … all rather like wading through treacle. Not depression as such but lack of energy and enthusiasm. I’m now off work (till the stock-take on New Year’s Eve…), house is clean(ish), neighbours were successfully mulled and mince-pied last night and step mum installed in the attic a couple of nights ago. She took us for a gorgeous dinner at the Plough and Harrow, Guarlford – my favourite restaurant in the Malvern area. Their food is as close to perfection as it could be: definitely recommended for any special night out.
The strange meld of pseudo-Victorian tradition, Christianity, paganism and, above all, consumerism, that marks the holiday season in Britain these days. Fa-la-la-la-la-la and let the merry PayPal jingle.
Tim Minchin recorded a song on the Jonathan Woss show this week but it was culled before broadcast because it might offend some supernaturalists. If they’d cut it because it’s not a particularly good song – at least by Minchin’s standards – that would have been reasonable. And, given it was cross-examined word by word before he was allowed to perform it, why not cut it then, rather than letting him sing it – and then blog about them cutting it? Duh.
What’s amusing me?
Michael Gove, Ed Balls, Tim Minchin, Mongrels, lovely friends, neighbours and my family. Not all in remotely the same ways.
Here’s the Wyche snow dragon from December last year: