January is a funny old month, don’t you find? After all the bustle and festivities of December, followed very closely by a TV show last weekend, January has now finally kicked in.
It’s the one month of the year when Dave and I are actually at home, not doing shows and exhibitions, so this is when we look back and look forward, decide what we want to do differently, and make a plan.
First of all, the house. Grace and Mark, have gone back to New York and San Francisco respectively, after coming home for Christmas. It was wonderful to have them here, and we are blessed to have had a house full of family and friends throughout Christmas week, but it’s also nice to get back into our routine life again. Our bedroom looked like it had been ransacked! I just kept slinging everything in there, because it was the only room nobody except us went in!
So life is gradually getting back to normal. I am laying off the chocolate, cake and carbs, in a vain attempt to shed a few pounds. I am fed up with this midriff bulge, the muffin look. I’ve got a wardrobe full of nice clobber, and all I can say is THANK GOD FOR LEGGINGS !
It feels like we’ve been chasing our tails for weeks. I take comfort in the fact that I am just one of many tens of thousands of women, if not millions, who spend way too much time, energy and money during December, trying to make it all lovely for the family, only to sit down afterwards, completely worn out and spent up, and quietly ask the question, “Did I actually enjoy that?”.
I am grateful to have had the family all together. I think (although I can’t say for certain) that it was good to stop work for a week. As to whether I enjoyed spending the best part of three days in the kitchen….
The astounding thing is that I do recall saying to my Mum, around the time when we were serving up Christmas dinner and the sweat was dripping down my cleavage, “Next year, we’re doing this differently”. Actually, the language might have been a little more colourful than that…
But I also know that 340 days from now, God willing, I will be getting excited, buying, wrapping, cleaning, inviting, planning and doing the same old festive jig. I love it!
In fact, when I stop to think about it, I will gratefully cut and peel, and slice and dice, and stuff and bake, and buy and wrap, just to have my parents and kids there, all together again.
So now they’re gone, the house is all nice and clean and tidy. And empty, except for Romeo. No, I don’t mean Dave! This is Romeo!