New Year Cheer

Plus ca change, as the French say - although they'd say it with the correctly applied accents, plus c'est la meme chose. I am reminded of this epithet as I gaze out of the window of the writing garret on a grey January morning, and see flocks of runners passing by below. It happens regularly at this time of year. As soon as the festivities are over, the decorations dismantled and the last of the chocs scoffed, the local citizenry stares at its waistline, realises that it no longer has one, and takes to the street.

By February, the streets will have returned to the usual hardy troupe of runners with their little headphones, water bottles strapped to their wrists, and determinedly- gritted-teeth expressions. Same with the TV adverts. The moment January arrives, some faceless marketing team decides that either I need to book my summer holiday now, this instant, or seems to think I have an insatiable desire to spend the next eight weeks learning how to construct a small lifelike replica of the Titanic out of cardboard (free iceberg with part one). The ultimate nadir was reached last night when I sat through at least six successive public advertisements telling me how to eat healthily, and presenting me with luscious fruit and veg, and fresh products. Meanwhile another local food bank has just opened up...
At the rehearsal


Bridal bouquet The 'cheese' cake.  Before I self-combust in the white heat of anger at the disconnect and rank hypocrisy of the current government, I thought I'd share something with you that certainly cheers me up, and I hope will bring a smile to your face, and a feeling of optimism in these grey dog-days of January.
Followers of Facebook/Twitter will know that DD got married on December 22nd so here are some snippets of the day and pre-day. They got married in the beautiful and historic 11th century church of St Bartholemew the Great, in Smithfield.

The church
The newly-married coupleIt rained the whole day, but somehow, the guests didn't notice. As you can see, they hired an old Routemaster to take us all on a trip round London visiting locations that were significant in their courtship. Oh - the dress? Bought at a Red Cross Designer Bridal sale. For the cognoscenti - it's an Emma Hunt bridal gown, should have sold at £3,500. A snip at £500 and the charity got the money. The shrug is vintage, as is the silver hair clip. There was Afghan food at the reception (DD spent 3 years out there), a sitar player, and a cake made out of delicious fresh cheeses (see pic).
Mr and Mrs
The most impressive aspect of the whole lovely day was the knowledge that DD had organised it all herself. A feat of not inconsiderable brilliance. Her ability to micro-manage big events and produce complex spreadsheets has not been inherited from my side of the family, believe me. As you all know, I am to technology what fish are to dentistry, and I do not see this state of affairs changing much in the future. Sadly.

And so, as we each pedal our unicycles of hope across the tightrope of destiny, juggling the beanbag penguins of optimism as we go, it only remains for me and the PINK SOFA to wish you all a belated, but Very Happy New Year.

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