Friday 17 December 2010

Office Party

Just a few hours left until daughter #3 breaks up for Christmas, which means it’s my last proper working day of the year. If I had a real job I figure this would probably be the day of the Office Party, so in order not to miss out this year I have decided to host my own. In honour of the occasion I have put on an extra squirt of perfume and a jumper with a minimal amount of bobbling, and am preparing to crack open a tub of Marks and Spencers’ Christmas Soup. I shall then give a short speech, thanking myself for all my effort this year (glossing over the horribly missed deadline in April. Or was it originally meant to be February?) and inciting myself to further endeavour in 2011. I might even drain the last inch of red wine left in the bottle by the cooker and make a toast to all of you lot, who buy my books, say nice things about them, continue to visit this blog even though I'm rubbish at keeping it updated, and make me laugh.

I wonder if Ruby the cat will pull a cracker with me?

Thursday 9 December 2010

Cold.

As in, a) it is - very - and b)I have one. Have been feeling extremely sorry for myself, although was temporarily roused from my slough of self-pity by the drama of this morning's school run. Here in Cheshire we have escaped the worst of the snow (although the frost the last two mornings has been very Lion, Witch and Wardrobe-esqe) but rain early this morning had frozen fast, coating the roads and pavements with an inch of glassy ice and making the journey to school a cross between an extreme sport and a comedy sketch. I don't suppose the three cars we passed half-buried in the hedge were laughing much though.

Anyway, The Cold (both kinds) has just added another challenge in the annual game we call 'Getting Ready for Christmas'. Every year as I struggle to fit in work, basic I domestic duties, shopping and queueing in the post office around attending nativity plays, carol concerts and making cheese and pineapple cubes for 50 children for the class party it strikes me that this does have real potential as an actual board game and I resolve to make up a prototype and send it off to industry insiders the moment I have time. It'll be marketed at women, obviously, and will include things like 'Make your own mince pies - go forward 3 spaces' and 'Fail to find anything remotely flattering to wear for husband's office Christmas party - miss a turn'. 'Come down with revolting cold and bore everyone with your moaning' will also warrant a missed turn while 'Get your children to eat sprouts' and 'Post all presents before last possible dates and avoid paying three hundred pounds in special delivery rates' will earn you an extra turn and a champagne cocktail token. I'd really want Lauren Child to illustrate it. Anything else I should include?

I'll leave you to ponder that and retreat gratefully into Fictionland where my hero and heroine are at a wedding in sunny Italy. Let me know your ideas and we'll share the profits, OK?