Very probably the last post of 2008

So, H and I went away for Christmas. By ourselves. Which was just as well, as the heating had packed up the week before Christmas and all through the house, every creature was shivering, yes, even the mouse (who lives in the attic and canters back and forth up there on quiet nights. Little bastard).

We went to stay in An Hotel, not actually colossally far from where we live, and mainly because H spotted they were doing a special offer thingy several months ago and grabbed it with both hands. We stayed in An Hotel for four nights, and we did the following things:

  1. Ate.
  2. Drank (and, naturally, toasted the gonk)
  3. Lay on the bed and read to each other.
  4. Went for exceedingly long walks through assorted parks and along river banks.
  5. Went to the Sales, even, and brought trousers.
  6. Ate some more. And had another drink while we were at it.
  7. Watched telly.
  8. Played cards without bickering.

And then yesterday morning we came back to the flat, which was naturally unutterably cold and exceedingly clammy. The heating is actually working. Sort of. The emergency repairman did a MacGyver on it with something else’s spare part, and lo, we had hot water! But we are under strict instructions not to overwork said boiler for verily, it is held together with spit and chewed string. Ah well. We will survive on half-rations of heat until the emergency repairman can find the Peculiar Bit Only Our Model Of Boiler Ever Uses And That Will Probably Have To Be Ordered From Korea, sometime in 2011 no doubt. We are currently drying socks and vests on a rack in front of the gas fire, like an illustration of a Victorian nursery.

Anyway. We must wrap up the rest of the presents, for today we are Being Good and heading off to H’s lot for a couple of days, and then we are Being Very Good, Possibly Saintly, and going to my mother’s for New Year (I am packing the Chocolate Lichen).

Meanwhile the Clomid is Officially Messing With My Head, in that I am having daily anxiety – well now, attacks is too exciting a word. Anxiety being-shouted-at-on-the-bus-by-man-wearing-plastic-bag. I find myself feeling increasingly tense and snappish and absolutely sure something, somewhere, has gone hideously wrong, starting with ‘and the boiler has leaked again in our absence’ (it didn’t), cascading through ‘and our families will hate us for not spending Christmas with them and will torment us with it forever’ (even though it’s their own silly fault for spending Christmas abroad a-freakin’-gain), and ending up in the wilder reaches of ‘and a giant asteroid will strike the Earth on New Year’s Eve and the handful of survivors will only live through the ensuing ice-age by eating each other’ (oh, for fuck’s sake). Imagine what fun I was the first three goes, when I had Big Sensible Things to be worried about, like essay deadlines and dissertations?

There was one difficult moment, on Boxing Day. H and I were at Kew, freezing our faces off in the east wind, and as we walked round the lake I suddenly said ‘Look. That’s the bench where we sat and fed the baby geese on the May Bank Holiday, when I was pregnant but we didn’t know it yet.’

‘Oh,’ said H. ‘I hadn’t thought of that.’

And there was a long, rather anguished pause while I stood on the bank and stared out at the adult geese and felt horrible.

But it was just the one bad moment. Other than that, we survived Christmas.

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8 responses to “Very probably the last post of 2008

  • Aphra Behn

    >> Imagine what fun I was the first three goes, when I had Big Sensible Things to be worried about, like essay deadlines and dissertations?

    At least you know it’s the Clomid now, and neither you nor reality. I dunno about you, but I do always find it easier when I’ve identified a root cause. Yeay, verily, drugs, hormones and shit that mess with your brains do suck, withal.

    *hug*

  • keanetwins

    You Have HOT Water?

    Booking a plane ticket back to old blighty immediately.

    It’s about time, anyway, I’m starting to sound like a local. I can say stwwwwwinnnnneeeee (strine) and ‘strayyyyyan (australian) now.

    Oh, and mayyyyyhtttte!

    J

  • Nina

    I understand what happens to you when you don’t have water. You suddenly become very envious of people who do. Then you start wondering why they get to have water and you don’t. Then you get very bitter and start not wanting to spend holidays with any of your family, because either they’ll all be showered and clean, or they’ll make snide comments like “Just relax! The plumber’ll come!” or “Just go and take over someone else’s bathroom, then you’ll suddenly have water. I know, because it happened to 2 couples I went to church with”…..Oh wait, that’s infertility. I was beginning to see a pattern in my life, and couldn’t figure out why! I actually had a major plumbing crisis about a month ago. I started being very appreciative of water. I complimented everyone’s water, hoping it would soothe our water’s feelings and it would decide to move back in… Oh, wait, that’s relationships. (Sigh) Well, glad you have your apartment back, at any rate. Good luck on getting the plumber out and escaping with your knickers!

  • Xbox4NappyRash

    Here’s to next year, all the best.

  • thalia

    Have you ever read all the way through ‘ a little pregnant’? Julie has a post about watching the baby ducks the first or second time she was pregnant, with one of the pregnancies which went wrong early on, and then going back later and deciding not to watch the again. it’s quite poignant. Sounds familiar in your post.

    There will be other baby geese, or baby ducks, or fluffy lambs, at some point in your future, I hope in 2009.

  • korechronicles

    Happy New Year. May 2009 be a wonderful year of fulfilled dreams and happy days. With chocolate lichen and absinthe on tap.

    XX

  • Hairy Farmer Family

    All shapes, types, forms and incarnations of Mother Nature can be hideously painful ref: lost pregnancies. I (for some bizarre reason) chose to recuperate from a couple of them by curling up in front of the collected DVDs of David Attenborough. Yep. Full of fluffy (and scaly, finny, slimey, etc) little things being born, and dying horribly. STUPID wifey.

    Personally, I’m glad Christmas and New Year is done with. Too much hanging about and bickering! And that’s without the Clomid excuse. (Clomid obliged me to stand naked on our drive at midnight, because the hot flush was threatening to ignite me. Bastard stuff).

    I do hope your family get togethers were not a living torment to you. But I bet someone said something. I bet they couldn’t help themselves!

  • womb for improvement

    Hope the chocolate lichen wasn’t needed too much. Happy New year!

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