I've been waiting for you, it's been so long. I knew just what I would do, when I heard your song.

This year, I shall be raising a glass of vino to the people we lost this year and taking a minute or two to think about the people less fortunate than ourselves.

Something mahoosive is happening tomorrow.
Merry Christmas x

Eighty Six Charlie, he came back. Said he'd been thinking it over. Says he's had a change of heart . He thinks he's made a grave mistake.

And just when I'm about to get all wrapped up in my own self-pity, wondering why things in my life are so complicated and tough, so barren and bare....something happens to slap me in the face and wake me up to all the other people's crap in the world.
And once again, I'm feeling lucky. In a way.

Earlier today, my ex-wife lost her step-dad. He was as close to a real dad to her and her sister as one could possibly get. She is from a very close family, so she's taking it hard, and she's so wrapped up in her mum's grief that she's probably not really had it properly sink in herself yet.
That's been terrible enough, but my kids have also lost their grandad. And it's been just awful....heartbreaking to see them trying to cope with the news.

Although we never really saw eye to eye, we got on with each other well enough to have shared the occasional evening together; several pints, a pool table and the two of us. He knows my biggest gripe with him was his drinking. Which, in time, developed into full blown alcoholism. We all thought the prognosis from his doctor would have been enough to scare the shit out of him, to show him a better way forward, to help him once and for all to see that he was slowly killing his body. It wasn't. When he was told he wouldn't survive a liver transplant operation, he knew....we all knew it was too late.
It was arranged that he spent the last of his days, weeks or months, however long, at home, with his family around him. And that's exactly how he spent his last breaths; with all of his loved ones by his bedside during his last few hours.
It's the way he wanted to die.
It's surely the way anybody would want to die.

RIP x

Are the details in the fabric? Are there things that make you panic? Are your thoughts results of static cling?

They pulled out at the last minute.
Seriously, fuck my life.

And in one little moment, it all implodes. This isn't everything you are. Breathe deeply in the silence, no sudden moves. This isn't everything you are.

Hearing at just after 9am on the day of completion that "something has slipped through the net" isn't the best kind of news.
It hasn't all fallen through. It's been delayed. By another week.
Yeah, no problem. Just unpack loads of essential day-to-day stuff, call all those companies up to reinstate services, beg with the removal company to hopefully reschedule for next week and not lose initial deposit paid, cancel the 'surprise' friends evening and hope people can still make it next week, etc etc.
Add to that, that neither of us can change the extra time off from our respective jobs, so if  it does happen next week, then it's going to be so much harder.
I should be used to shit like this.

You would call the garden rules out like commands. And we would all obey. But you'd stifle giddy laughter as you spoke. And puncture the pretend.

It feels very, very weird to think I have someone else moving in with me.
I don't feel precious about this house. My house. I'm not feeling guarded and protective about it. If anything, it's been a noose around my neck for many years now.
But I don't hate it. In fact, I love this place. It's a quiet road, I don't hear anything from the neighbours. In fact, the house adjoined to mine sold a good few months ago, and since then, there's been loads of workmen in banging, drilling, scraping, knocking and clumping around. So no connecting neighbours, which is good for the music....which is good for my soul.
It's convincingly roomy, with it's lovely loft-conversion, its open-plan ground floor and funky conservatory. The cats love it here, which is good news considering there's potentially another three joining them!
Yes, it's a great house.
And I really do feel completely comfortable thinking that there will be a time when I no longer think of it as my house. It would be our house.

I keep getting asked what happens when one of the 'house rules' gets broken.
How utter shit to think that I have any such 'house rules'.

All being well, it all kicks off tomorrow.

Will I turn my coat to the rain? I don't know. But I'm going somewhere I can warm my bones.

So, after Friday, I....I say I, but I mean me and the cats; Dexter and Dozy, will be joined by another person in the house. A real human being.

Totally scary.

After two weeks since the interview from hell, I've still heard nothing. The other guy who's also gone for the job hasn't heard anything either, nor has one other person we know got through to interviews.

Quite bizarre.

In the last four weeks, a few things have broken; the TV, my computer, the mouse a short time before that, the paper shredder, my mobile phone and the light switch in the garage. I've lost the installation disc for the wireless printer and I never installed it on this laptop, and of course I need to print stuff. Oh, and the fridge is making a peculiar sound. A sound that doesn't sound like a well working machine. It's a good job I haven't got a freezer or washing machine to konk out on me as well.

Slightly cursed at the moment.

And you should never cut your hair, 'cos I love the way you flick it off your shoulder.

It's your most defining moment.
It's where you want the initial focus. it's where you want the afterthought,
To linger.

Sweeping it away from your face.
It's where you want the very least focus, it's where you left your afterglow,
To falter.

It's obvious when you're rekindling that friendship.
With your confidence.
It's telling with your rags, your clips, your bands.
Growing your confidence.