Christmas was…Christmas. It happened. We spent the day itself in Wales, lounging next to the fire on my father-in-law’s UNBELIEVABLY enormous and comfortable sofa, occasionally rousing ourselves to fuss the two matted mudballs with eyes that I think may have been collies, or else possibly some species of dog-golem. Well. I say ‘we’ – I relaxed, and Simon cooked all sorts of food. As usual. He likes it, OK? At least I think he does. Anyway, it was all fine and festive; at about four o’clock the FIL started playing his punk records, and we had a real Christmas moment when we realised we both know all the words to ‘Jet Boy Jet Girl’. Magic, baby.
On Boxing Day, Simon and FIL were both stricken down with some sort of horrible intestinal bug. But I was fine! And so I laughed! I laughed until the next day, when fate wreaked its hideous revenge. I will spare you the extremely gory details, except to say that it was the least fun I’ve ever had lying down. There was a bucket beside the bed. I used it. It wasn’t pretty.
So I spent a fun couple of days trying to keep solids down, and was mostly recovered in time for New Year’s Eve; not that you could tell, as I spent the holiday horizontal on the sofa looking like shite, much as I’d spent the previous week. (Much as I’d spend my entire life if I wasn’t forced to go to work now and then.) We tried to watch It’s A Wonderful Life, but the copy we’d downloaded purchased didn’t work properly: boooo! So we watched The Big Lebowski. I’m happy to watch TBL anywhere, anytime. It has become part of the wallpaper in my brain. (“‘Fuck the tournament?’ OK, I can see you don’t want to be cheered up. C’mon Donnie, let’s go get us a lane.”)
Simon did manage to get It’s a Wonderful Life working the next day, which was ace as he’d never seen it before and I really wanted to see the film work its magic on a newcomer. NOBODY can resist the evil heartwarming mojo of Jimmy Stewart in It’s a Wonderful Life. In fact, I think the word ‘heartwarming’ should be redefined to apply ONLY to It’s a Wonderful Life, because Frank Capra owns the de facto copyright on heartwarming, and also because the word in any other context makes me want to sick up.
I did get some fairly awesome pressies, which I will try to take some pictures of this week. In the meantime, here’s a new collage sheet of one-inch circles, available now in my Etsy shop…
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