“I’d love it if you could join me,” the woman said, smiling at him.
“Well, it’s very kind of you. But I can’t impose on Christmas Day.”
“Nonsense! It’s not imposing if you’re invited. And you are.” She smiled again. “You really mustn’t be alone, tomorrow of all days. And I bet your house is still full of unpacked boxes. Can you even find your roasting tin and the pans you’ll need?”
“It wouldn’t matter if I could. I’ve no idea how to cook a turkey and I haven’t been food shopping. Truthfully, I don’t know if I can face it on Christmas Eve,” said Bill, picturing the packed supermarket car park, heaving aisles and the inevitable queues at the check-outs. …
In the last few days, I’ve read at least three articles about choosing a word for the year. Not for the year we just waved off into the past; I’m sure we all have quite a few words for 2020, and not all of them bear repeating. Suffice to say, it’s likely to go down in history as one of the worst years in modern times.
No, this is about choosing a word for the new year. This word should encapsulate what you want to achieve, or what you need to concentrate on or improve, in the coming twelve months.
I’ll admit to being a bit bemused by the idea at first. It sounded a bit New Age, a little woo-woo, for a middle-aged working class Northerner like me. But then I took the time to actually stop and think about it. Where’s the harm in having a word in mind that can act as a plan, or a hope, or a mantra? Something to spur you on on the good days, and something to give you comfort on the bad days. …
Warning: this article contains a brief account of a domestic assault.
Fearless community, please read with care.
Sophie is a close friend of mine whose name I have changed. She has given me permission to write her story.
Sophie had been with her husband for fifteen years when their marriage broke down. They’d had their ups and downs over the years, like most couples, but both had believed they would be together for the rest of their lives. Earlier this year — for various reasons to do with lockdown, children, and a final straw that broke the camel’s back — that all changed. …
Dear Self,
Sleeplessness is never good. It gives your brain time to think about all the things you refuse to think about during the day. It has become your bête noire since the ending of your twenty-year marriage.
Your mind goes to the past. To all your mistakes and foolishness and short-sightedness. You berate yourself for not joining the dots sooner, for the sacrifice of your children’s happy childhoods — that’s the most unforgivable of all. Being honest, you didn’t fully comprehend the unhappiness or the damage. But that is no defense. You should have comprehended. …
Life is very black and white at the moment. Let’s take food as an example.
Not eating junk food is a struggle you live minute by minute if that’s your Achilles heel. If you have an overeating problem or a chocolate-addiction, modern life is your enabler.
You can shop for healthy stuff with the best of intentions and, feeling virtuous, stow it neatly in your fridge and cupboards.
And then, if you live in a town or city, you can choose to totally ignore it, walk or drive five minutes up the road to a convenience store, and buy chocolate/chips/wine/your-choice-of-food-weakness.
Modern life is your enabler. …
So, the lucky ones among us are having a quiet Easter weekend at home, courtesy of coronavirus. If you’re not doing anything this weekend, you might as well not do something fantastic. Here are a few suggestions.
We haven’t anchored our yacht off Monte Carlo for a couple of nights. We’re not heading to dinner later at a lovely little harbour-front restaurant we know, followed by an hour or two at the casino. The boat boy isn’t under orders to have the Moët nicely chilled for our return at 11 pm. We won’t sit on the deck and enjoy a glass or two while watching the lights twinkle in the bay. Sound good? …
I’m feeling grateful for so many things these days. Some are huge, some are tiny. Here they are, in no particular order, if you promise not to judge.
Actually, go ahead and judge. Hey, if that’s what gets you through…
1. I love you more than you can possibly know. From the moment you were born until the moment I die, know that I’m here for you. You’ll always have me in your corner to help in any way I can. My love for you is unconditional. You can be whoever you want to be and tell me anything. I’m not here to judge you. I’m here to love you. Having you has been the best part of my life.
2. I’m sorry for the times I’ve been less than perfect. I really have done my best. The decisions I’ve made along the way were what I thought was right for us as a family. If I’d had a crystal ball and known how some things would turn out, I would have done things differently. I’m just another human, like you, and I don’t have all the answers. I’ve made mistakes. …
Do you feel that your emotions change minute by minute at present?
We’re living through the scariest of times. That word ‘unprecedented’ hits me in the face multiple times a day. Nobody has the answers.
You might start the day feeling relatively positive. You’re staying home, keeping busy, connecting with friends by phone or social media. This is okay. You’ve got this.
And then you watch a news report and you’re reminded what a dire state the world is in. …
Social distancing and lockdown have seen the rise and rise of the Skype or Zoom interview. Our news channels cut from a politician in their own home to a self-isolating journalist, from a family singing Les Mis songs with adapted-for-coronavirus lyrics to an Oxford University Professor of Virology.
I don’t know about you, but while I watch and listen to these people, I’m also endlessly fascinated by their surroundings. We’re gaining fly-on-the-wall access into people’s usually private spaces.
The general consensus in the UK seems to be that, when being interviewed, you must position yourself and your laptop in front of your bookshelves. Perhaps this evidence that you’re a reader — or, at least, that you own books — is a necessary credential for your credibility? Maybe it also says something about your social standing? …
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