Christmas, New Year etc

Still catching up from Christmas. Have to go with when the muse strikes.

Amused, while browsing Waitrose’s array of Christmas produce, to see this product labelled ‘Christmas mashed potato’. It appeared to be in fact mashed potato, sans any additional cranberries, holly or similar. Didn’t look to see whether they also had Christmas washing powder, tampons etc.

Spent Christmas this year at Mum and Dad’s with the family, which was lovely though a veritable slew of present-opening and three-year-old excitement. Here’s Dave lighting the pudding, failing to impress Alys who’d obviously seen something much more interesting in the garden. Nia got a pair of Anna and Elsa dolls, amid a good deal of other Frozen merchandise, and carried them and her new Olaf doll around with her for much of the time she was there.

On Boxing Day we went out for a bit of a walk down to the river meadows (the river Usk impressively full) and back via the Linda Vista Gardens and the Hen & Chickens for a Boxing Day drink. Nia made her feelings known at one point by lying down in the middle of the meadows and refusing to go on, but was eventually persuaded by Nanna. Alys was adorably smiley for the whole walk despite it apparently running way into her nap time. 

Boxing Day drink at the Hen & Chickens

Set off on 27 December to Milton Keynes to check on my flat, rather prompted by the holiday burglary post-Christmas in 2013, though as my current rented place is on the second floor I’m hoping it’s rather more secure. Everything was indeed fine. Was joined later in the day by Ruth who, after months of frankly somewhat trying indecision over what she was going to do for Christmas, had made a late decision to go to her parents’ home in Norfolk. In the event it had evidently all worked out OK, helped by her mother having had friends visiting for a majority of the time.

We returned to Reading the following day and began a marathon of clearing the living room and hallway and then stripping wallpaper in readiness for Mark the plasterer, whom Ruth had booked in for 4 January. It turned out to be indeed a marathon task – the hallway paper came off easily but the living room proved a lot more troublesome, and we had to face the challenge of how exactly to strip the paper from the stairwell. Ruth managed part of it via ladder – being slightly squeamish about heights I refused to do it, so fair play to her – and we accomplished the rest by rigging up a sort of platform of a board across ladder and stairs, such as should never be seen by either of our mothers.

Discussed who should play us in any future documentary warning of the dangers of DIY. My suggestion that I should be played by Claire Danes was rudely received; Ruth’s counter-suggestion of Dawn French was equally rudely received by me. Ruth briefly toyed with having Janet McTeer play her, but then we decided that JMcT is tall enough probably not to need the ladder in the first place.

Met Jude for coffee in Starbucks on 30 December – hadn’t seen her since the last Progress South Central get-together I attended, which must be two or three years ago now. Jude is still working at Reading, as a Health & Safety Administrator, and currently has one of the university-owned flats, which sounds a reasonable deal. We had a very enjoyable catch-up over two absurdly large mugs of hot chocolate. In the evening, Ruth and I went for a drink with our neighbours at number 47, Kris and Laura. Kris, who seems a very friendly chap, has mooted the idea of a drink before and it’s never come off, so kudos to him for persevering. We braved the Fox & Hounds at the bottom of Westfield Road, a pub I’d never been into in the now ten years I’ve lived in the house in Caversham. It was a bit rough round the edges but perfectly pleasant and we had an enjoyable few drinks – Kris seemed up for making a bit more of a night of it but I wasn’t really up to that.

The Fox & Hounds’ main claim to fame is that John Lennon and Paul McCartney once performed there in 1960 as The Nerk Twins, before they were famous (apparently the pub used to be owned by McCartney’s cousin). Not sure whether that Beatles-inspired ale has yet been created.

Met Claire at The ex-Hobgoblin now-Alehouse on New Year’s Eve for an afternoon drink. Being much more of a party gal than I am, Claire was heading out that evening to the Rising Sun with Alison to see Dolly and the Clothespegs. I headed home to, as I generally do, stay in for the evening - I think we cooked and then probably watched something, but I forget what. Like the idea of going away for New Year, preferably somewhere remote by a lake, mountains etc, but never get around to actually thinking about it in time. Perhaps next year. Maybe.