Christmas Jumpers

So, Christmas Day.

It was going to be difficult to top the Helsinki effect of last year's present for L but somehow that seemed easier to organise that getting her a watch this year. I hope the shop assistant got good commission when I set her the challenge of something small, dainty and ladylike but preferably with six inch high digits with hands to match. Bless. The only part of my nearest and dearest to have aged since I met her is her eyesight. It'll be me next year.

L joins the boys and I on the park, from where we are rained off earlier than we intended. Then my parents arrive and after we’ve slammed our online goose in the oven we head off to the pub. It’s the Admiral Rodney this year, which is rammed.

When we return we have a pleasant Christmas Lunch with Daughter and occasionally Son, who drops in a vital points e.g. food and presents.

L is resplendent in her self-knitted Christmas jumper and Daughter in hers, also knitted by L. The manufacture of which exhausted us both and I wasn’t even involved in their production. This was not helped by the fact that Daughter came home two days earlier than we expected. Note to self - don't decide to knit presents for people. Thankfully, that's unlikely to happen.

Then it’s time to fall asleep in front of the TV. Primarily ‘Tangled’ of which I understand little and then ‘Dr Who’ of which I follow even less.

His new assistant is nice though. Again. We could do with poaching the head of his human resources department for my company.

(Tuesday 25th December)

Feeling Rebellious

L tells me she needs kicking out of bed this morning. I try to do so gently but gently doesn’t really work, though she is eventually up well before me. She’s out with the dogs and back before I have the boys’ breakfast out which doesn't go down well with MD, who looks well confused by that turn of events. He wants his breakfast and he wants it now. I’m feeling rebellious and make him wait.

There’s a bit of a chill in the air this morning and it’s a scrape the car day. Definitely a porridge morning but I’ve barely finished getting my oats before I’m dragged into an early morning meeting. I don’t get chance to inform L of my safe arrival and she automatically assumes I’ve parked the car in a ditch somewhere along the A52. Which would almost have been preferable to the meeting.

Some things are sent to challenge me. L sends me shopping for baking soda but of course I can’t find it. I enlist help but the shop assistant is convinced that no such product as Baking Soda exists any more. I either need Baking Powder or Bicarbonate of Soda? L has a ‘recipe’ that mixes baking soda with bleach for spreading on the ceiling to remove mould. Baking Powder apparently is good for cakes but not so good for ceilings, although Bicarbonate of Soda might me, but I decide I best check back with L first. The whole cocktail sounds deadly for the person stood underneath spreading it on the ceiling.

I have part two of my first aid course tonight.



Thoroughly enjoyable. The chance to slap people repeatedly on the back, hard, and try out the Heimlich Maneuver. Yep, we’re covering choking this week. Along with spinal injuries, shock, heart attack, asthma attacks, breakages and bleeding. Bleeding involves mummifying each other up (kind of) which is great fun.

Then to close I sit my first exam for around twenty years and get ten out of ten. Gimme that first aid certificate. Off home to practice on L.

(Tuesday 18th January)