The Holidays Continue
26 December
Christmas Eve. I had a magical time on my own.
I spent some time tidying the house and clearing things away so that I have space. I like space. Lots of boxes went up into the attic. Lots of bits and pieces got stowed. Another good thing about the kitchen being complete is that I now have a washing machine to hand. Load after load has been processed over the past few days and it feels good again to know that my clothes are clean - well cleaner than a soak in the sink will ever produce anyway.
I made sure that I had time for me as well. I started reading Ross's Christmas present to me - Armistead Maupin's new novel The Night Listener. I like it already and I'm so relieved. Not just because it's a present and I won't have to lie when Ross asks me if it's alright but because I really value Armistead Maupin's work and his last novel was a disappointment and I just hoped he hadn't lost it completely. There are elements that speak directly to me about being middle aged and gay, about being a story teller, about being concerned about the nature of different truths, about being the older partner in a relationship, about knowing someone who has been abused, about knowing people who have or have had the HIV virus.
And I cooked. I christened the wok that my parents bought me for Christmas and produced a wholesome chicken stir fry. And then I had a long bath and listened to The Importance of Being Earnest on the radio. I've never experienced the full play before although, because so much of it is common currency, it felt as though I had. Hmmm. It's rather good.
I didn't have a good night's sleep when I settled. I was sort of headachy, fluey and woke from one dream feeling as though I had been crying in the dream. Mary, my niece, had been there, as well as some other people, and I was saying to her "Well, not all memories are happy, some come from a sad place." I have no idea what that was all about. But I did tell myself that I wasn't going to be ill.
Christmas morning began with carols on the CD player, scrambled eggs, coffee and ironing of shirts and there was sunshine, glorious sunshine. So, I rang the parents from a callbox and told them that I was on my way but that I was going for a walk. Which is what I did. I walked along the waterfront as looked out on the mouth of the River Mersey and the coastlines of the Wirral and North Wales as they hit the Liverpool Bay and the Irish Sea.
Christmas Day passed in a happy glow of family activities. Presents were exchanged and happiness abounded.
Grace seems to be getting slightly daffier as the years roll by. Earlier this year, when Ross told her that we had been to see the movie X-Men, she sniffed and replied with a sigh in her voice saying that we probably had to go and see that sort of film now and again. Albert regaled us over lunch with her latest faux pas.
He'd been into a bargain basement clothes store and
was delighted to find a cheap (like only £4 cheap) waterproof jacket.
Exceedingly pleased with himself and not minding the logo which included a
rabbit, he bought the garment and wore it out of the store. Grace took one look
it and, pointing at the logo, told him he couldn't possibly wear it because
it was advertising birth control. It took a while to explain that the logo
was for Duracell, the batteries, rather than Durex, the contraceptives.
The Queen's speech was dutifully watched. Food was eaten. Wine was drunk. I stayed over so that I could drive with a clean conscience the following morning.
Boxing Day and the parents followed me over to Crosby and enthused appropriately about the kitchen. We had a throw together lunch. Next year, God willing, I shall be able to have a Festive dinner party for Ross and Albert and Grace and whomever.
And then they were gone and I had time to myself again. And I read and ate (just a little for my waist line felt mightily expanded). And listened to music and relaxed.
And I did very much the same sort of thing on Wednesday. However, the major
incident on Wednesday was the arrival of two men from TeleWest to install my
digital connections to the outside world. So, I now have a basic cable TV
package which gives me all of the terrestrial channels plus a number of radio
stations and some digital channels which I shall mostly ignore apart from
BBC Knowledge which has some good stuff on it. The best thing about it seems
to be that I can put everything into letterbox and can record radio programmes
onto video tape. I'm also back on line from home although I'm experiencing
difficulties with FTP. The worst thing is that my parents can now ring me at
any time.
