Silent Nights

Hello, you may remember me. I used to write here a little bit. My hard drive bit the dust. Back up and running and now I'm racking my brains thinking what anyone would possibly want to read about here.

So I'll do a little Hot/Not Hot:

Hot

• Christmas day was choice - choice people, choice kai, choice presents. Sweeney spent the day in full Spiderman regalia, including undies. Choice;
• having three days off in a row after the frenzy that was the week before Christmas;
• Patricia Grace's Tu. I'm so actually reading it;
• Prairie Home Companion on the National Programme. Somehow all that dour Minnesota-ness about snow and Lutherans is a real signifier of summer for me;
• seeing Sweeney hang out with his families on Christmas day - especially his Dunedin cousins and auntie and uncle - what a nice bunch of people;
• Wonky Donkey. Haven't enjoyed reading a book about a terribly disabled, musically tasteless animal with giantism and a chirpy countenance so much ... ever;
• having Mum to stay. She brought trifle. Hope she makes another one ...

Not Hot

• the squealy noise coming from my front passenger wheel;
• this latest batch of weather. Not hot at all;
• the spuds I served up for dinner last night. Took ages to boil, then they went instantly grey. Epicurean, indee ...;
• One Red Dog tonight. We went there for dinner just after 5pm and left at 5.35pm, without even getting a glass of water. Loads of staff about, and only a fine spray of punters, but no-one coming for our order or anything. We scarpered to The Craftsman, which was kind of fabulous, as it turns out. Bad, bad dog ...;
• hayfever. And buying hayfever medication, only to have all symptoms disappear;
• Little Dorrit's over. Oh, stink.

I'll leave it to Wonky Donkey to sign off. Hee Haw!!