I spent my morning writing Christmas cards, my last few for hand distribution down in Stradbroke, and then I drove down there to see most of the Radio Stradbroke crew and give them their cards with Not Nul Points XXI in them. Nice to see them again. I miss these people, but not the place, like I’ve said before. We all need to move on – or perhaps one of the few people who has this constant urge to do so – tempered by the fact that I always feel the need to settle and hate change. That’s a whole year’s worth of therapy there.
Then back up here, to buy the ingredients for my Christmas herring salad, which I’ll make this coming week. The last few cards written, then a walk, and bemoaning the fact that not only is the weather damp and drizzly and miserable (and I much prefer the ice and the freezing cold), but also the fact that I couldn’t walk across the Heath in the dakr because one of the car parks I use as my way onto the Heath was just a sheet of ice covered of course by the rain, so even more slippery than I had anticipated. I can only say again that this country gets the weather it deserves.
One last thought – of course I cried last night when Hamza won Strictly. The man is not just a natural dancer who moves unbelievably nimbly for a man who thinks he’s too big to dance; he’s also one of the most humble and genuine people I’ve ever seen on TV. And although I have come to like and respect Helen Skelton (whom I was indifferent to before the series started, and for 2 months of the series), I think H deserved to win for a great range of reasons.
There, sitrep done. I need to get other things done now – like sitting down and doing nothing. Maybe that’s the best thing of all to do right now.