…and the floor (nearly) won. It’s finally down – or at least most of it is – but dear God, the dust.
To anybody who called in the days that followed and was faintly surprised to hear the late Leonard Cohen answering, unfortunately that was me. And more is to come since there’s still the final rooms-worth of it to go, but for the time being it’s done with and thanks to mine and Henry’s sterling efforts the mess is almost gone, New Speaker is temporarily ensconced on a shelf nearby and the house is finally settling into Christmas mode, especially now that my living room no longer resembles the Steptoes’ yard.
It’s been a busy couple of weeks even leaving the floor aside – the 24 hour dash to Brixton and back for the Pixies could be said to have set things back a bit further but seriously, who cares – worth every hour and every penny including the twenty quid for the T-shirt I swore I wouldn’t buy. Never has standing on a slope in a darkened room listening to a short, bald man screaming for two hours been so entirely uplifting (and I’ve spent many a two hour stretch in darkened rooms with men of all shapes and sizes) but alarming in the sense that everybody present both on stage and off looked like a proper grown up. More alarming still is that I probably do too. Not to me though, which is all that matters.
Back home and the last of the Christmas preparations are in full swing; the cake is marzipanned and (as of last night) iced following an afternoon of playing nicely in the kitchen with snowflake stamps, tree is up, turkey is ordered, shopping is done, presents are wrapped and the Christmas Radio Times (the publication of which signifies the official start of Christmas in this house, at least) is bought. This week promises to be a calm and relaxing build up to the day itself with little left to do. Optimism is the way forward.
And as we can see, the Christmas page is up! Not that it’ll make any difference to those reading on Adultwοrk, who will just have to learn to click through if they want availability since posting details of it on the profile page is strictly verboten (to the extent that I’ll even have to cut this sentence out as I copy and paste it over) on pain of getting unceremoniously dumped from the site without warning or explanation. But I digress; what getting all the jobs out of the way in good time (a habit I fell into over years of working in London every December for the whole week before the break and having to get everything done before I set off) does allow for is a fairly seamless final working week and I will not only be keeping company at my flat every day this week, but until later than usual too – yay! Usual caveats of booking before 5pm for those calling on the day will apply, but bar Thursday I will be taking bookings until 9pm instead of 7 and I would recommend getting in in good time. It’ll be fun!
London will be hot on Boxing Day’s heels on Tuesday week for anybody wanting to cosy up in Pimlico, but no need to worry about that now; Song of the Week is one of my all time Christmas favourites and it never hurts to have a bizarre yet festive video accompaniment.
More soon! Mince pies are beckoning, and thanks to the resounding success of my pre-Christmas WeightWatchers stint (to the extent that my clothes are now all too big) I can have as many as I like. Roll on next week…