Having a Lovely Time - makes a change!

This week I've had some lovely things happen to me.  Apart from ageing 12 months I mean... which has to happen to have a Birthday, so I guess one cancels out the other.  A bit of Yin-Yang.

I had a very unexpected delivery in the shape of an Amazon-gift-wrapped DVD set of Fawlty Towers  from my oldest (and gayest) friend in the world.  I don't mean he's the oldest person I know (although he IS the gayest, as I don't know any others, apart from his husband... oh, you know what I mean) anyway, we've  known each other since we were 5.  Isn't that lovely?  I think it is.  And so is the fact that we can go for months without any form of contact whatsoever (sometimes years, in fact) and then he can call - a proper telephone call, a little worse the wear for beer and have what HE thinks is a laugh (at my expense).  Which makes me realise that ours is a proper Forever Friends friendship. And even though we're officially grown-ups, I still want to stick my tongue out at him and pour a pint of beer over his head because he manages brings out the petulant child in me.

I also took delivery of a book for review by Dorothy Koomson 'The Woman He Loved Before' and although I felt slightly sorry for it (see last post) having to follow in the wake of the FANTABULOUS 'You Don't Have To Say You Love Me' by Sarra Manning, I was delighted to receive it. 
In fact it filled up the following three days, it was so darned good.  EVEN THOUGH it contained three of my Deadliest Sins in a Book:
* a Prologue - which is the work of the Devil
* Flashbacks (the Devils' spawn)  and
* Diary entries (which formed the flashbacks - so double *aaargh* for me)

But I had my head turned.  Not only was I hooked after the first chapter, I actually couldn't put it down... it gave me right-wrist-sprain trying to keep it up in bed (no sniggering at the back, thank you) and even though I desperately wanted to find out how it ended, I wouldn't let myself.  It was a thoroughly gripping read and if I didn't know the meaning of the word 'page-turner' before, I do now.  Fab book.

For my Birthday on Tuesday, my darling, beautiful daughter presented me with the latest 'Writers and Artists Yearbook' and inscribed inside "THIS will be your year, Mummy" (as she has always insisted and inscribed every year for the past 4) and my beloved husband bought me some lovely CD's (Rumer, Paloma Faith, Bach) and then we double-dated on a trip to the cinema to see 'Paul'.

Which was lovely, and British and funny.  Just how I like it.

I also got a surprise present through the post from my lovely writing 'sister' Deborah Durbin which also made me squeak with delight, belying my advancing years!

I had so many Birthday Wishes on Facebook I could have spent all day sobbing with happiness at people's niceness... and

This morning I met someone from work for a coffee and a bun.  Something trivial to anybody else, but the fact I haven't socialised properly since the accident last April, for me, it meant the world - even though I know I was nervous, twitchy and itching to get back home.  I kept repeating in my head "Dolly Steps".

And now, after a fortnight (and 18 months of writing) of simmering and stirring and seasoning the latest book, I've finally managed to pluck up courage to send the first few chapters and synopsis of 'Grounded' off to The Agent who was interested in the last teenage book.... thinking maybe she'd forgotten about me.  A couple of minutes later she e-mailed back saying how she's looking forward to reading this one, and that the other one is still with the other person she passed it to, to read and comment on.

And the sun's out.

It don't get much better, do it?

The Post of Christmas Past...

The Good Old Days!

This is me aged 2 on Christmas Day. I can't tell you the year as it will do something terrible to the space-time continuum and we could all be sucked into the ether for such knowledge. Or I could die of supreme mortification - whichever is the sooner.

I actually remember this photograph being taken. It was probably something unearthly like 6.00 in the morning as I was one of those precious children who just couldn't sleep for desperation of wanting to hear Santa's sleigh bells. I actually DID hear them one year and was convinced I saw a flash of Rudolph's nose fly over the houses across the street.

As you can see, I have a hand well and truly stuffed into my sack clamouring for the next present. And you can also see a rather unusual looking teddy bear moulded from white plastic lying on the pillow behind me (VERY trendy in the sixties, I'll have you know) which I could never quite warm too. He just wasn't the best bed-buddy if you know what I mean. I remember trying very hard to get him to lay nicely beside me like other children's bears did, but his ear always ending up gouging a ravine in my cheek. Still, I did get a lovely, softer other bear, which I was bought the following year as consolation for having a baby brother.

The picture below was taken at my Great Aunt Ivy's on Boxing Day the same year. If you squint, or embiggen the pic, you can see me looking a bit bewildered, sitting on my mum's knee at the back next to the telly box (probably still b/w). As I was the only child (until the following October) I always felt a bit overwhelmed but loved all the attention (which dwindled the following year... can we see a pattern emerging?) that Christmas brought. I used to be so thrilled that grown ups could have fun, considering that for the rest of the year all they seemed to do was shout, scowl, argue and moan about everything. Of course I never understood the part that Sherry had to play in this scenario until much later on in life!

These were the best Christmasses. Ever. When the dinner cooked itself and appeared from nowhere smelling heavenly and tasting so magical; Maltesers came in boxes and selection packs came stocking-shaped with a netting around them. The heavenly smell of Pretty Peach Avon perfume and the horrible American Tan tights from Aunties with no imagination.

I loved being allowed to light sparklers after dinner over the fireplace; sitting on Dad's knee and being so awed that he could crack two Almond nuts together with his bare hands. I loved the way my Mum and my Nan's cheeks got pinker and pinker as the day wore on, especially during the card games that went on way past my bedtime. I loved being allowed to just lift a chocolate from a bowl and eat it without needing permission and I loved that everybody I loved was all together in the same place, having fun and laughing. The only thing I didn't like was that it was over way, way too soon and I'd feel a little tug of sadness that the excitement was passing for another year.

But, here it is (again) MERRY CHRISTMAS!

And a Merry, Massive MASSIVE THANKS to everybody who's visited my blog this year, read, commented and come back for more - here's to more of the same next year! *chinks glasses*.

Two fingers to fudge...

Christmas is cancelled, 

because we’re getting fat.

Please give any edibles to Alice or the cats.

If you haven’t got the message

we AREN’T opening Santa’s sack,

don’t be offended come your Birthday

at getting your chocolates back!