New Year’s Day! A day of dilemmas, as I try to decide the best location / time of use for each and every one of the many lovely presents I have received this Christmas. What a lucky gal I am! Or, as we are wont to
declare, when the last gift has been unwrapped, the last greeting label read, the last piece of wrapping paper subjected to the “crunch test” to determine whether or not it can be recycled - “Didn’t we do well!?”
Having retired to bed at the reasonable time of a quarter after midnight (yes, we listened to Big Ben strike and watched the fireworks) I am reasonably bright eyed and bushy-tailed
this morning, compared with New Year’s Days in times gone by when Mr B and I had been out partying till the small hours. I may miss the carousing - but I don’t miss feeling tired and out of sorts on the very first day of a New Year. It’s
like turning to the first page of a new notebook and finding somebody has already scribbled on it.
Mr B watches in some bemusement as I carry my presents around
the house, trying them out here, or there, or wherever. No such problem, to be fair, with my Backdoor Shoes, a present from my Little Sister and her fella which are neatly positioned - yes, you’ve guessed it - at the back door. They are going to be so
very useful when I have to trot to the garage to (i) empty the tumble dryer; (ii) fetch a new carton of milk from the fridge; or (iii) consult the contents of the freezer. There are days when I make at least a dozen visits to the garage. Sometimes I even remember
I am not prepared to put the new DVDs we have been given - The Crown for me, Tottenham Hotspur 2016/7 for Mr B - neatly on the appropriate shelves,
just in case we forget about them. We need to watch them first. The trouble is Mr B doesn’t fancy watching The Crown and I don’t fancy watching football. We may need to arrive at a compromise. Or find our old DVD player which is hiding in a cupboard
somewhere, obviously not wanting to be drawn into a confrontation.
I have found the perfect places for my framed photographs of my Swift Girls, Katie and Eleanor,
and of Mr B and me with our Welsh Boys - these needed to be in full view from my armchair but not crowded out by all the other photographs dotted around our room. My new book - The Keeper Of Lost Things - is on my bedside table, all ready to be dipped into
when I go to bed tonight. I love the title - I rather think I, too, am a keeper of lost things, except that - as well you regular readers know - my lost things (of which I have many) have been swallowed up in a big, dark hole somewhere within the house, possibly
never to be seen again. Maybe my new book will give me some ideas where to look? Or, quite possibly, not.
My beautiful Seaside-themed notelets are just waiting
for me to start penning my thank you letters; my hanging bird bath and poppy bird feeder are swpaying merrily in the garden, beckoning a welcome to the birds with every swing; our new 2018 calendar is upon the wall, tantalising me with the thought of Dates
To Come. On our dining room table, it is still Christmas thanks to a sparkling new table decoration, a gift from grandchildren Jack and Hazel. Come Twelfth Night I will pack it away for safe keeping in the box which once held Katie and Eleanor’s photograph
- until next Christmas.
Chocolates? Oh, yes, we have a few - but as One Who Is Always Thinking About Her Stomach, I know just where they will be going..
Driving home from KFC - Mr B’s takeaway of choice (other takeaways are, of course, available) - there is yet another gift ahead of me. It’s the Supermoon at its
nearest to Earth, so large, so very, very beautiful. Unlike my other gifts, there’s no need for me to find a place for it.
It’s perfect, just where