What I mean is,
when you have got over too much to eat, too much to drink, put away extra crockery/bedding/toothbrushes, Aunty Betty has finally got the car out of the way so you can stop fretting about what you are going to do when somebody wants to go to work/take the kids to school etc and you really don’t want another family negotiation for 12 months. And the first bills have arrived.
At 9 I didn’t know what irony was
but I remember my father calling up to my mother in a sepulchral tone “Gas is out …” pause “No post” … pause “ Dog’s still not home” and wondering why the grownups laughed when I said “Happy New Year, Daddy!”
Last week Pam the Painter asked “What’s existential ?” and I said “I don’t know.” “Gosh” she said, “I don’t think you have ever said that before” so I explained – I don’t know how to use it so I don’t use it, and asked why she didn’t look it up on line ? “Because” she said “it will tell me what AI thinks… ” ah yes.
In trying to find out whether Waitrose was open on New Year’s Day, the AI summary said no, but the entry for the branch I wanted said yes. I rang the store. They were open. Maybe AI stands for Approximate Information.
And when we have finished giving all sorts of jobs over to it – do tell me how the unemployed are supposed to earn a living – or shall we all be nourished by a different kind of injection by then?
Whether it is my generation or my personality or both, I am repelled by the over simplification of losing weight – and only now are the informed beginning to talk about what you do afterwards? How long can you take the drugs?
How will you look? What will it do to you?
A friend is using them carefully in accordance with a much altered food intake and regular checkups. Though she says it will be slow, she looks wonderful. While another said “If you don’t alter what goes on in your mind and understand why you eat what you eat, you can do anything you like – it will always come back.” There are many books written on obesity and I am not going there but at 21 I worked for a man who administered a daily shot, doubled on Saturday to get you through the weekend given alongside a very carefully managed diet: and those who stuck to it, did brilliantly – like Miss Flynn in a size 14 dress, a plain woman made radiant by liking herself so much better. After 60 years, the modern edition is cheaper and more accessible – but the marketing
is merciless.
Even allowing for meteorological catastrophizing (overstatement necessary to get even passing attention) Storm Goretti promised trouble in the midst of which a contributor was heard to say “And we are asking people not to climb mountains tomorrow “ because, if they do and get into difficulty, somebody else has to risk life and limb to rescue them.
I don’t know which I like least – the build up to Christmas or the extended few days to New Year and beyond – but this year it was all through a filter of pain – big little word –
and I don’t mean discomfort. I mean couldn’t bend, couldn’t walk much, couldn’t sit much, truly incapacitated. But hooray for the osteopath and doing as I was told, Thursday 8 January was the first painfree day since 27 November – partly to do with injury and partly to do with age. So that was New Year for me.
But you always learn something – I learned how much I take for granted – small movements, cherished freedoms … It concentrates the mind quite wonderfully when you can’t sit in the structurally chosen writing chair and getting on and off the loo is a time consuming challenge.
I learned to wait, ideally breathe and wait. I drew heavily on whatever and whoever was offering whatever support. I learnt to be rather than to do and breathe and count my blessings.
So – this is the beginning of New Year Proper – hell on wheels so far but here we go.
Annalog 