So, we have come to the shortest day of the year. On Radio Four's Today programme during the Thought for Today slot, the presenter mentioned how he always thought of the days opening out again once the shortest day had arrived. He didn't, he confessed, have the mirror thought of days shortening once the longest day had passed. Well, as you know, I do.
I know that the sun has now dropped down below the road's horizon. It is hidden from view throughout the day by the houses opposite so there is no direct sunlight in the downstairs rooms. How glad I am to have moved my work room to the front of the house. I am surrounded by light there as I type this journal. The candles give an extra warm glow as I listen to Bax's First Symphony. Geraniums and winter pansies provide colour in the window boxes. It's like a little sanctuary against the season outside.
However, I like this idea of light returning appropriated by Christianity as the notion
of the light entering the world. I like the seasonal lights in the windows of the
houses along the road. I like their illumination of the darkness and the sense of
hope. What I don't like are the lights on Oxford Street where, at Oxford Circus,
they spell out the sponsor's name - Bird's Eye - no sense of Yuletide cheer
there.
You've heard already about this year's tree. Well, tradition has been upheld by Cyril who has dutifully trashed it. Somehow, he seemed to get it into his head that trying to drag it into the kitchen would be a good idea. Still, little real damage was done. It's just never as satisfactory trying to put tinsel back onto a tree once it has been half pulled off.
What else to tell you? I have grown a winter beard this year
after a year off. And, as you can see from below, I look very badger like with all
the grey bits. This year I feel like celebrating them. Last year I was afraid of
them. Yet another change to note.
I've sent messages to Chris and Rod and Dale about my intended trip to the West Coast of America next year. Cambridge Chris will have finished his efforts for Camelot - must find out how it went and how excellent Ed was as Arthur. Phil has moved out of his flat and is in a career upheaval. Lowestoft Colin is in America by now soaking up the sun with his friend, Ed. And, in all of this, I am maintaining my equilibrium and, noticeably, my weight remains at a constant 68kg.
To round off, I'd like to rail briefly against call waiting. Ross's friend, Chris, has the system in his house. Ross stopped in the middle of a recent telephone call to talk to someone else. And again I recently rang up and Chris answered the phone, talked to me quickly and told me he was already talking to someone else. On both occasions, I was outraged. If I'm talking to someone, I don't want them dipping off to talk with someone else. Frankly, I want the attention.