Wednesday, 26 February 2020

Wednesday, 5 February 2020

Getting On With It(Christmas is Over)


And with the last Ecclefechen consumed (more on these delightful creatures later), can I finally bid adieu to Christmas? No.  Because the tree is still up and the gift of truffles is still in its decorative candy dish and the glitter jam is still in the fridge and I am still wearing Christmas slipper-socks. Creature comforts in a dry January. (Can't even use the cold weather as an excuse as it was 7C on Monday.)

Panic sets in because I haven't:

  • finished my travelogue from 2013
  • painted the bedroom doors
  • read my TBR pile from 2005
  • organized the kitchen cupboards from 2017--so much for Apartment Therapy
  • booked that trip to the East coast
  • baked that chocolate-balsamic truffle loaf
  • made that 28-ingredient meat loaf for Dad
  • organized my photo collection
  • made it to a Chekhov Collective show
  • took the time to brew a proper espresso
  • used my fabulous new Staub crock pot
  • opened that bottle of Shiraz
  • made those cognac & nib bitters
  • had the discipline to blog weekly--not even the ubiquitous 'wordless Wednesday'
  • booked my pedicure
  • rid the closets of old clothes
  • selfishly transformed the spare room into a space for reading, yoga, and other me stuff
  • re-designed the back garden
  • washed the car
  • ...
And is taking down the Christmas tree the only thing standing between me and an artfully written, grammatically correct post? The last barrier to a Cordon Bleu-worthy dish? No. 
But consider the feeling of a 'clean' space--i.e. a clutter-free space: emboldening, inspiring, empowering.

I admire the discipline of those who take down a tree on December 27th and who choose not to borrow from the Slavic or Chinese traditions; those who call it quits January 1.
The clock is ticking on shlepping about in Christmas socks, the tree-lights ablaze (remember we have gone down this road before--see Stuart McLean and his Winter tree lights), and binge-watching Outlander and Homeland--and Le Weekend on repeat. The espresso maker and Staub are two tiny steps on the road to adulthood (this as a BD draws near); getting organized and staying organized are two others.

Until next time. Where we justify the whopping $10 it takes to maintain this collection of letters.