It's a new dawn, it's a new day, it's a new life... and I'm feeling meh

Ok, it's not a new day, dawn or life, and it's not quite new year any more either. But I haven't blogged in a while, no, really, and so I feel compelled to say:

A very merry Christmas to all the bots out there! And I do hope all the legions of real people anxiously awaiting my latest bloggage had a most splendid Christmas. And indeed, anyone else. Them too. A really happy one.

Christmas for me was a bit spoiled by the illness of everyone, but the children had a brilliant time and were more or less well on the big day. Poor grumpypants had tonsillitis and couldn't eat or particularly stay out of bed. Most everyone was frugal this year, myself included, which puzzles me slightly as to why it took 4 years of recession before this kicked in. Grumpypants was most generous; I received a Chromebook, which is quite brilliant and shall be blogged about in due course. This was on top of the Kindle Touch I received as an early Christmas present in October. 

Yes I know, patience would have yielded a Paperwhite, but no Chromebook. So I win really, I have a shiny new Touch that does the job just grand, and a Chromebook. Way. How many times can I mention the Chromebook? Many.

So that was Christmas. Me being spoilt mostly. I'm not holding out for much for my birthday on Friday. I may pretend the Kindle was a birthday present.

Happy new year also. May 2013 be bountiful. I type 2014 first almost every time I type the year. I'm obviously not anticipating a good year and want this one out of the year.

According to my 2012 new year spraff, which can be revisisted here, I undertook the following for 2012:

* Finish my dissertation and finally get the MSc I've been doing since 2007.
* Lose the baby belly. 
* Move to a house that's big enough for 5 of us. 

No, no and no, although I did submit the dissertation today so that just missed. Although it was a big bit rubbish so may need redone. 

The other two, well, no go. 

The baby belly is marginally smaller, having toyed with various fixes, the most successful of which was a low carb diet, which was surprisingly easy, effective, solved all my niggly ailments, and which gave me agonising pains that may well be gallstones. So we're back on the carbs, with the accompanying belly, stecky joints and perpetual hunger. I may one day master the art of moderation.

We're still in the same old 2 bed flat. We have lived here for ten years this year, seven of which with two children and a bit over a year with a third. She's still in our room, is ever accumulating belongings and it is a Bit of a Problem.

So for this year, things are quite simple resolution wise:

1) lose the belly that's hung around too long to be called a baby belly
2) move house
3) learn the art of moderation

Anything else just seems a bit ambitious. I can't think of anything else I achieved last year. Ooh, other than successfully icing the Christmas cake with royal icing. The year before I had a daughter who I had long hoped for but neither planned nor expected. This year I plan to enjoy her as much as I can before she grows up at a rate of astonishing swiftness. Her brothers turned seven last week. Seven??!! I'm not sure how that happened. Yes, I know. Passage of time, constantly, and all that, it's a turn of phrase. Gad. My imaginary reader is so pedantic!

2011 - had a daughter
2012 - iced a cake

Doesn't quite compare. Although the latter required skill, the former just happened all by itself and all I had to do was not smoke, drink or eat swordfish.

So. I do intend to blog more but I always intend to blog more, except that time back then when I used to blog more.

We'll see what 2013 brings, and perhaps find out why I'm so keen to deny it.

Epiphany

So that's Christmas well and truly over again. Boo. I like Christmas. I dutifully removed all the decorations yesterday as one is meant to, and checked carefully around the house for the one I had missed, for there is always one. Sure enough, when leaving the house today there was the sort-of-wreath on the front door. Because I checked the whole of the INSIDE of the house, of course, not the outside. Missed the deadline again. Like every year.

Today is Epiphany. The day the wise men arrived in Bethlehem to pay respect to the baby Jesus. The last day of the celebration of Jesus' birth, before we start winding up to celebrate his demise.

Incidentally, I do accept the story of Jesus as a historical figure, but I do think of it as being more Life of Brian than King James' Bible. Still, it doesn't do any harm to think about the "true meaning of Christmas" and try to come up with an answer for the children that isn't "gifts" or "it's all a load of lies".

There has been a poster up for a few weeks opposite a set of traffic lights I pass through for most places I go. So I've studied it a lot. It says something along the lines of:

"God loved us so much that he sent us his only son so that those who believe could have eternal life".

I have issues with this.

Couldn't God, all powerful creator, simply:

1) mysteriously impregnate any virgin/woman (why did it have to be a virgin? Surely God would know if she was pregnant to another?) to have more sons?

2) just say "right, you have eternal life"?

Obviously you have to believe in God in the first place to believe there is an afterlife, so saying you don't get in unless you believe is pointless. I don't get in a tizzy about not being able to go to places that I don't think exist, so why should anyone else?

And I don't really get why having his son amongst us being persecuted and then executed helps the cause. It doesn't give the impression that being a fan of God is a good thing.

I don't understand it at all.

I don't mean any offence by the above, I'm just asking the questions that come to me. Which I believe is offensive, but that's another matter.

And the news that isn't is...

So.
I love my job. It's ace. I've been there a month, the rot will set in soon I'm sure. For now: happy chapette. Free time is now zilch, as I've gone all domesticated and joined a cleaning cult.

Explanations may be forthcoming. They may also not be.

Boys are all settled in at school and being ever so grown up. And astonishingly clever. Well, not THAT astonishing, being mine and all, but impressive all the same.

New most needed: a Kindle.
Yes, I have the Kindle app. I like. It's not so kind on the eyes. Yes, an iPad would probably be better. They cost a LOT more and are less handbag friendly. Oh, and the Kindle isn't made by Apple and so it may still work after a year. Grrrr. Ongoing 3G trauma. The general solution appears to be: upgrade to an iPhone 4.

I quite like the Sony Ericsson X10 Mini. It would do my head in due to its lack of iPhoneness within about an hour, I think, but a concerted perusal of phones yielded but one contender for anything beyond "meh": the X10 Mini. Not Pro, which is less Mini and loses the appeal. Keyboard Schmeyboard. If it gets Froyo, and I am such an Apple deserter for even knowing what that is.

I think my 3G operating issues are punishment for siding with the Androids. iOS 4.01 was unusable. 4.1 was hunky dory for a bit. Now: a bit (big bit) SLOWWWWW. But usuable, if sigh inducing. Number of sighs is directly proportional to desire for an N8. Oops. I know.

So. Therein lies all anyone would need to know about the Kindle.

I do like books. Lots and lots and lots: they have words in them. I like to go back to them as and when I feel like it. I have 1000s of them, and that's after serious culling (to charity, I will not bin a book, not even a Michael Moore). They take up a lot of room and have the following failings:
They're not that easy to hold.

If you want a book asap, you have to get a giant format (hardback or pointlessly big paperback). If you want to take such book anywhere while reading it, you need a small suitcase to carry it in.

They go yellow.

They take up a lot of room.

They cost more in print format than in ebook format.
Yes. That is correct.


All hail Amazon. Which we have been doing since ever they started but really, huzzah! The Kindle is (probably) a marvel.

Other reasons to love Amazon: Universal Wish Lists. Marvellously fantastic for deluded moments. You Never Know.
And, more realistically, useful for spouses who have "no idea".

This is (almost) the best time of year. Digging out warm clothes, dark evenings, the anticipation of Halloween and "goodness ME the shops have got Christmas in very early this year. Of course, I've started buying already..." and a stupendously grand TV schedule. Autumn TV rocks. I love it all, that fizzing almost about to think about being winter time of year. Brilliant.

I am particularly jubilant as I wore my down filled jacket today. I heart that.

Voici. Every thought I've had since last time I thought. All for you to enjoy.

A bientot. It is time for the sleeping.

Positivity

I'm feeling a little warm and fuzzy. Or fizzy, as I seem to find the locating of the correct keys in the correct order a little challenging tonight.

So, the fizzy fuzziness is a result of that Christmas thing. Christmas itself was a little tiring due to ill people not sleeping between Christmas Eve and Boxing Day, and stupid people not going to bed when they can. But the whole time around is just lovely. A little impetus to catch up with people and suddenly you remember that perhaps you're not as crap as you thought you were and that people aren't necessarily pissed off with you. It's easy to spend time with people after all. And it's always nice to get stuff. I like stuff. I got lots of lovely stuff.

Going to a splendid wedding on the 20th helped set the mood, but it's nice. I refuse to accept that it's not nice. Yes, I spent most of Christmas Day in the kitchen. Yes, I have had to see virtually all of my relatives. Yes, it's been hectic. Yes, I'm knackered and yes, I couldn't afford it. But it's all been nice and sort of life affirming. Spending Christmas Day with two children who have no memories of previous Christmases is simply magical, the discovery of Santa's visit was one of my best parenting moments yet. And I got to write my first letter from Santa! All nice. Nice nice nice and I have nice people.
(And crap ones, but they're crap and thus aren't entering my psyche at the moment because they don't deserve to, and because they are insignificant and diminished by the sheer existence of all the nice people).

However, Christmas is over, it doesn't really go on for 12 days and enough already, thank you.

People seem to be feeling a bit bla at the moment. Noone seems to have had a good year. Some have had less good, some have had ok years, but noone seems to have said "yes, this was a good year". Everything seems to be petering out, ending, getting too much to cope with; people are putting their heads down and surviving, licking their wounds, trying to get to the end. It's saddening, but it does seem to be universal.

But look! There is an end! An end to this year. A new year starts in just a few days, and marks a new beginning. For everything that has ended, so there must be a new beginning for something else. 2008 was to be the year of new beginnings, but it forgot and instead stamped a big final full stop to all those things. 2009 will be the rebirth year. 2009 will be the year that all those things that should have happened already actually happen. 9's a good number.

Trust me.

Gloomy tidings I bring

And so enter the giant bad mood. Obtusely. It's exactly one week till Christmas, which should be nice and glittery. Glittery in a virtual manner, naturally. Except it's not. It's not working. Why? Because there's other people.

How other people ruin Christmas every year:

1) Shopping
The shops are shut for one day, maybe two. A rough guess would put half the population out visitating, so they don't need food for either of those days anyway. Stockpiling would seem unnecessary. So why are there people buying huge, overflowing trolleys every moment of every day? What are they going to do with all that food? Do they really consume significantly more over a period of two days than they have over a normal weekend? Can one family actually use up an entirely trolleyload every single day? Given the the Royal Mail are struggling to deal with the sheer volume of things bought online, why are the shops still heaving? Where's my order from HMV?

2) Socialising
So everyone has to offload their endless supply of food/drink/canapes. Understandable. So commence the endless squabble over who goes where, when. It's not that complicated, but the simplest of arrangements becomes a military exercise of precision as soon as Christmas approaches. Not all that difficult, but hey, don't commit, there may be a better offer. No, there won't be. Just agree to something mutually easy. No? Make it more of a hassle? Go on then.

3) Moaning
(Which I am getting increasingly good at)
It's a holiday. It's a holiday when people eat too much food and exchange gifts. That's not a bad thing. All blokes have to start off about now going round with a po face and complaining about how much they hate it all. All women have to get into a flap, are you all ready for the big day? Well, no, it's a week away, I think cooking now would be a little premature. Yes, I do believe that Sainsburys will still have a turkey next week. No, it probably won't snow. Does it really matter? Noone's going to go and play in the park on Christmas Day, it just looks pretty when you look out, stick a nice snowy picture up. Look, there's snow all over the Christmas cards, look at them for a bit. No, it never snows, yes, it's all because I drive a car, indeed it was always perfect when you were a child, of course you're not confusing real life with films.

And this week, my own special contribution: being a nightmare. I'm stressing about things, I'm hurting and I'm being thoroughly unpleasant either by being snippit or whiny or generally going on. So, er, sorry.

A CBeebies Christmas

Christmas again. Bang bang bang.

The wee guys like CBeebies. They also like other channels, but I like CBeebies because it doesn't have adverts or particular shoutiness.

This week they seem to have kicked off their Christmas stuff. It's lovely. I have issue with the Christmas/children thing because, erm, I don't believe in all the son of God stuff and that's a rather large part of it. I guess they have to know it sometime, but I'm not comfortable with telling them. I'm hoping that can be left up to Someone Else, like a teacher. The daughter of a friend of mine came home appalled because they had been taught songs at nursery with swearing in them. After some persuasion she revealed that the swearing in question was "Jesus Christ". Is an issue.

Anyway. This is what Christmas means to me (expanding on comments from before and quite probably boring into a stupor):

A celebration of winter.
I think that this is possibly the reason for the date, because Jesus Christ, if he existed, definitely wasn't born in December. It's a midwinter thing, possibly even a pagan date. So none of that makes sense, but it is nice to celebrate winter. All the glittery snowscenes, and lights to make the most of the dark really do herald being in deepest winter. Roaring fires, gluhwein, roasted chestnuts, perpetual hope for cotton wool snow on Christmas morning; that's all nothing to do with Christmas and everything to do with December.

Family, friends and fuckwits.
Christmas time means you get in touch with everyone. You catch up. You find out what people have been up to. You arrange meet ups and people make the effort to join in. You stop and think about the people in your life, what they like, what they do, what they want. It's nice, even if it's fleeting, grudged and seemingly unreciprocated. You wish everyone good cheer and spread a little reluctant happiness. If you don't do anything, you still find out who is thinking about you, and you get grand TV and time off work. And really, noone's particularly worse than they are the rest of the year, and given that it matters so damned much to most people, you can drink silly amounts of alcohol for the sake of it.

It's not magical, it is expensive and it well and truly hits home all the gaps you have in terms of socialising and family, but this time, the build up, the pre-Christmas sparkle, well, it's nice.

CBeebies gets this. It's all glitter and songs and snowflakes and cookies. No Jesus, no family, just a happy atmosphere where everyone loves* Christmas and each other.

So, a very CBeebies Christmas to everyone.




*they actually do, these people are the nicest on the planet.

Christmas wishes

I wish that...

...all my Christmas shopping was bought

...I didn't say stupid things All The Time. this amount of fretting is alarming.

...my assignment was in

...Christmas was really all snow and log fires and singing

...Santa would really pop in on Christmas eve

...I didn't have to spend money offending people by how little I spent. Why don't we all bake each other cookies?

...everyone could have a little bit of joy today, just because it's December and Christmas is in the air

...I had office parties to go to, even the official one

...I'd never seem The Office Christmas specials so I could see them for the first time.


And most of all I wish you a very happy pre-Christmas fuzzy moment.

ohappiday

I just looked at the date. It's the 2nd of December today. The piece of work I'm hyperventilating over is not due till the 4th. Two whole evenings to go. Not one. Two. That's like 12 hours or something.

Christmas arrived yesterday in this house, hurrah hurrah hurrah. Tree is up, sans baubles as they have been lost by Someone Else, so it's covered with candy canes and foil covered chocolate and looks really quite cute. Yesterday we celebrated Andrew Collins by having a holiday, that only the government took, in honour of him. Or maybe it was some other Andrew, I'm not sure. Alex Salmond is obviously a fan.

Talking of Andrew Collins, this is what Nathan Jay's done now, it's amazing:




Oh, I just realised what I have to do with my new found free afternoon, the boys' birthday is one month tomorrow and the card has to be at CBeebies 4 weeks before, so needs posted, erm, today, I think. Yah. It's 4 weeks on Saturday, and given that Christmas gets in the way...

Oh cack.

Action stations. I needs a photo of them. Panic! Panic! Has to be printed too. Still have the CBeebies cheaty stickers to make auto-card. Need glitter!

I feel the need to hyperventilate again.

brainbreak

I had something I wanted to blog about but I got distracted on the way here and so forgot completely what it was.

Never mind, there is always later.

Clearly I need to share the distractions.

First, this is from Andrew Collins' blog, so if you've been there already, this is repetition . I think this is brilliantly done, it's really impressive. Much kudos to Nathan Jay.

In my esteemed estimation, a gentleman of a certain age with a desire for a pink digital watch is most definitely gay. Or, fauxmosexual in an attempt to impress the ladies. Deeply suspicious anyway.

It occurred to me sometime earlier that Christmas is one month today. I have done nothing towards Christmas except buy the kids' presents, and I'm a bit skint. Problemo. So I'm off to buy some stuff to bake some Christmas presents. I may have lost my last remaining friends by New Year.

cheese: the thinking man's toothpaste

Especially for you

Christmas is nice. It's about nice things. It's pretty, it's just nice.

I like it. I will mention it.

Lots and lots and lots.





Christmas lights make everything pretty. Buying Christmas presents, wrapping them up to look decorative and seeing someone open a present they want is marvellous. Even seeing people is nice at Christmas time.


Things have to be organised, people have to have strops and be pacified, plans have to be made. It's not too early.

It's never too early.

I will start in June next year.

Ring-a-ling, hear them sing

I've been tasked with finding a Christmas night for my book club. Mostly because I'm Little Miss Christmas and enforce yuletide jollity on all (and retrospectively get appreciated, I may add), but also because I'm a sad git and I really miss work nights out. My selective memory is forgetting that good work nights out were never the Christmas ones (except maybe spontaneous unofficial ones), but that is Beside The Point.

Problems so far:

1) We're in Kirkcaldy. This is not party central of the world.
2) Huge mix of ages. I'm the youngest (as usual; I wonder when I will ever reach an age when this isn't the case?), then there's most ages up to 70/80(??), including my mother at 68. Different tastes, different willingness to travel afar/be adventurous/spend money.
3) My mother. To many this would mean "oh no, I don't want my mother to see what I get up to when I'm drunk", to me this means the exact opposite.

So, ideas being pondered include the pantomime (over my dead body), a Santa's party (over my unconscious and mutilated body), dinner at the local hotels or at someone's house, or going to the Edinburgh Christmas market (my spiritual home), having dinner somewhere nice and doing something Christmassy that's on in Edinburgh.

Didn't get anywhere with this, but on a search for Something Christmassy that's on in Edinburgh, I found that the Scottish Ballet are performing Sleeping Beauty in Glasgow. Which wasn't all that helpful at all, but I noted with interest that they're going to Edinburgh in January. Well, hopefully, I notice their sponsor, which means they may be performing in the street in last year's costumes.

January, January, January. I love things that are on in January. I have an unfortunate birthday tucked in just after Christmas/New Year/kids' birthday time, which depresses me a little more each year, not because of the passing years (still always the youngest) but because of its insignificance - which I don't personally agree with, I find it quite significant. But ho! Sleeping Beauty is on! I can organise a trip to see that, and slip in a wee birthdayness and have a Grand Night Out. A man free night out, and autoexcluding the less pretentious of my comrades, but still. We can have tapas and wine! And more wine! I remember how much I like wine!

Christmas: it's all about me really. And my birthday. La la la la la la la la la la*


*that's the la la la's from "I am a Rock", which may or may not actually be lai lai lai's.

Feeling festive

I do like Christmas. For all the sad things that always seem to happen at this time of year, it's nice to just have one day to be entirely indulgent and enjoy the nice things in life. As such, I'm very excited that it's just a week to go.

The wee guys don't quite get it all, they now recognise images of Santa, but when they met the man himself, they were entirely underwhelmed and looked at him as if to say "and YOU are??" Not aided by the fact that Oliver greeted the wind up Santa in a nearby shop with an enthusiatic "Santa! Santa!" fully within earshot of the human version. Ah well. Advent calendars are a source of chocolate, any attempt to explain the purpose of them gets rewarded with an impatient "chocolate" and frantic pointing.

Decorations are a little sparce due to little people's penchant for removing anything within reach, but this is this year's favourite:

I would love to see this scaled up, but luckily the French have more taste.

So peace to all and may you all feel the warmth of Christmas.

Christmas

What Christmas Is As We Grow Older

By Charles Dickens

Time was, with most of us, when Christmas Day, encircling all our limited world like a magic ring, left nothing out for us to miss or seek; bound together all our home enjoyments, affections, and hopes; grouped everything and every one around the Christmas fire; and made the little picture shining in our bright young eyes complete.

And is our life here, at the best, so constituted that, pausing as we advance at such a noticeable milestone in the track as this great birthday, we look back on the things that never were, as naturally and full as gravely as on the things that have been and are gone, or have been and still are? If it be so, and so it seems to be, must we come to the conclusion that life is little better than a dream, and little worth the loves and strivings that we crowd into it?

No! Far be such miscalled philosophy from us, dear reader, on Christmas Day! Nearer and closer in our hearts be the Christmas spirit, which is the spirit of active usefulness, perseverance, cheerful discharge of duty, kindness, and forbearance! It is in the last virtues especially that we are, or should be, strengthened by the unaccomplished visions of our youth; for, who shall say that they are not our teachers, to deal gently even with the impalpable nothings of the earth!

Welcome, old aspirations, glittering creatures of an ardent fancy, to your shelter underneath the holly! We know you, and have not outlived you yet. Welcome, old projects and old loves, however fleeting, to your nooks among the steadier lights that burn around us. Welcome, all that was ever real to our hearts; and for the earnestness that made you real, thanks to heaven!

Welcome everything! Welcome alike what has been, and what never was, and what we hope may be, in your shelter underneath the holly, to your places round the Christmas fire, where what is, sits openhearted!

Of all days in the year, we will turn our faces toward that City upon Christmas Day, and from its silent hosts bring those we loved among us. In the Blessed Name wherein we are gathered together at this time, and in the Presence that is here among us according to the promise, we will receive, and not dismiss, the people who were dear to us!

The winter sun goes down over town and village; on the sea it makes a rosy path, as if the Sacred Tread were fresh upon the water. A few more moments, and it sinks, and night comes on, and lights begin to sparkle in the prospect. In town and village, there are doors and windows closed against the weather; there are flaming logs heaped high; there are joyful faces; there is healthy music of voices. Be all ungentleness and harm excluded from the temples of the household gods, but be those memories admitted with tender encouragement! They are of Time and all the comforting and peaceful reassurances; and of the broad beneficence and goodness that too many men have tried to tear to narrow shreds.