Dec 27
I bookended 2022 with the spicy cough, having had covid in January and December, with the December version being the most vicious. It has been a slow recovery, and the bad news for you is that I am now way well enough to type.
“Well, I’m 7-and-a-half and I still haven’t had my 6th birthday party,” was the leitmotiv of Marigold, especially after being asked to empty the dishwasher. There were daily reminders; Tristan chord tensions were palpable.
However, midsummer 2020 was very low key; mona corona. There were no mass gatherings, traditional dress, or dancing around a 20-foot penis - oh those were the days. The frog dance leaped a year, the organised fun set aside, and for something completely different, the sun was shining.
I've been camped out on the trundle bed in the girls' room for 7 nights and we've barely left the house. It's been a quiet one, that's for sure.
TSH can't stand up and I can't really walk so Easter 2018 will be a much toned-down version of usual events. The kids will not even notice as long as "The Rooster" shows up sometime over the next few days.
And it's pretty safe to say that for the last three nights the kids have had supermarket meatballs and macaroni for dinner, with nigh on not a vegetable to be seen. I know you are meant to 'eat the rainbow' but our rainbow has a slight 'sepia' tone to it, with only white and brown to be seen.
I felt like I was in the Barossa Valley, whipping up quince jelly, quince paste and rosemary and quince jam. Turns out, all you have to do is add a hell of a lot of sugar to them and boil the crap out of them.
By December, Sweden has very few hours of daylight so some clever bugger came up with the idea of celebrating the four Sundays before Christmas, by lighting candles and drinking mulled wine. Golf clap.
My contributions of 'ghost bananas' and mini 'pumpkins' we not the most popular choice. I blame 1) merchandise positioning - he'd placed them right near the big pot of candy and 2) his complete failure to sell them in.
I went as the dead car crash victim in the Great Gatsby/or a Dickens novel. I have to say, looking dead took no effort at all. Over the last few months I have truly perfected the haggard look and basically, just roll out of bed every morning looking like this.
loulouloves 