I have hit the February Slump. I have become a Grumbling Slug, succumbing to over-use of electricity and over-consumption of fat. This very day all that has to stop!!!
I took a funeral years and years ago for a woman whose family, so her next of kin told me, spent their summers in England but over-wintered in Italy in the sun.
One of the best ideas I ever heard.
I have had a number of vague dreams along the lines of “If I could do everything differently . . .”
In one of these scenarios I live in a trailer under a huge tree, in a woodland holiday trailer park. The capital outlay on housing is tiny, there are site fees but no council tax; and the requirement (as it’s a holiday home) of living in it only ten months of the year, moving out for January and February, obliges me to also keep a time-share apartment in the hottest most exotic holiday destination I can find – palm trees, silver sand, azure skies, glorious seas . . . I can see it all . . .
Meanwhile, deep in the English drear it is almost morning. Sitting in bed in my flannel pyjamas and vest (English vest – underwear – not a waistcoat!) with a fur as well as a fleece blanket on top of the very warm down quilt Mama gave us in the nick of time this cold winter, blowing my nose (or should I say "blowig by dose"), I have opened this card that has been waiting. Here it is on the nightstand by our bed in the still-dark morning, in front of the Gruffalo calendar that lets you know just how childish I am.
The Badger left it on our bed when he went back to Oxford yesterday.
Must be a honey-badger.
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I got this to improve myself. Along with some inspirational CDs that I could play while I fell asleep, so I would go on improving long into the night. I thought they hadn’t worked as I seem to be just as selfish and crabby as ever, but maybe the CDs had a subtle influence, subliminally causing me to be altruistically generous and that’s what made me give this away.