The last blog of an eventful and somewhat blighted year which began with a lockdown and ends with a quasi-one in the UK with people duly terrified by messages from our leaders imploring us to be very afraid.
But Christmas arrived anyway and remains most people’s favourite time of the year. A time for family and neatly positioned ahead of the New Year, when our attentions turn to renewal and we are all high on hope and determination for the year ahead.
But can we please spare a thought for the workers.
Those people who make Christmas what it is. The workers who remain grafting so that others can put their feet up. Let’s hear it for the foot soldiers – the workers in shops, garages, bus drivers, milkmen, bar staff and restaurateurs, the myriad delivery drivers and let’s not forget the clerics…
The omicron variant arrived and laid waste to so many people’s plans. Manna from heaven for some, the work shy? – but a disaster for those workers less well provided for and with less options.
Our Christmas is different because for the first time since Paddy arrived, we are five and not six – and one of us present is confined to his room. Our ex-neighbour (86-year-old man living alone) usually joins us for lunch but not this year – so I drove a plate of dinner to his new flat as rapidly as possible and without being fined – because the cameras keep working of course. The new 20mph limits has me praying he has a microwave.
And to today, Boxing Day in my book – always a day to cherish. A huge pie with all the Xmas leftovers is my favourite meal of the year and later this evening, my second trip to see Spider-Man No Way Home is neatly split by a quick family round of golf. A four ball on the course where we all learn’t to play the game – and some of us are still very much learning.
Harry, Sam, myself and this year a new golfer, Nikki Holland, fed up of feeling excluded from dinner table discussions about missed putts and shear bad luck. Tess is along also but only for the walk.
With the ground completely sodden, Sam’s all-time Holland low score of 24 at this 9 hole gem seems safe enough although Harry has a steely resolve about him. My lowest score is 27 but I don’t have any records in my sites – I just want to beat my twins.
Which doesn’t happen and is perhaps me just being kind and giving them a further Christmas present. Not a bit of it, I’m afraid.
Harry finishes first at +1, Sam +3 and the old fellah limps home with +5. Nikki is some way back but she did get a single par and this will be enough for later when we finally sit down to our pie.
So, Happy Christmas everyone and thanks to the workers again. The people who cannot down tools like everyone else…
The nurses in hospital, the emergency services and yes, I guess the bloggers also…
Because, I suppose that this is my job. Kind-of anyway. And I did begin writing this post on Christmas day, so I guess that I am working too. So I am a working hero also?
No, I hear you.
Too much of a leap, right?
Sure, but today does happen to be a Sunday – the day that I always post with tens of people across the globe have become used to and expectant. So what if I hadn’t posted today? Imagine the disappointment…
In the next few days, our thoughts will turn to self-improvements with resolutions and various promises we make ourselves. For those who might be determined to read more in ’22, maybe 12 books a year for the ambitious, 6 for the more realistic…
Then perhaps put a strong step forward by starting with something quick and easy to read, like a novella perhaps?
Hobbs’ Journey – is published on 2nd Jan – exclusively to Amazon because I want to help Mr Bezos get into space again.
A short story about a London tramp called Hobbs. It will make you smile and feel good. The story can be pre-ordered here.
I am finishing the year strong because last week I finally got to it. The subscribers to my mailing list not only heard from me, but they received one of my books for FREE. You can join here and receive your book also. Everyone welcome. Thank you.
Happy New Year to all my readers wherever you are in the world.