I'm starting to dread the annual ritual of writing the Christmas cards to people. The family are ok, as they obviously know what's happened, but it's people that we (Mum & I) haven't seen / spoken to since last year that are worrying me.
Why? Because Mum & I are going to have to compose a letter to enclose with the cards, and let people know what has happened - and then wait for the 'phone calls, which I know damned well will upset Mum, as well as me... But I've already had one freak out episode in this so-called season of goodwill already....
I know this will sound crazy, but I had a minor crack up episode on Friday (after I'd posted to my blog.) I wasn't feeling very sociable at lunch-time, and rather than face having to try and make small talk with colleagues over sandwiches / soup and other lunches, I made a choice, that with hindsight, probably wasn't the smartest thing I could have done.
I went to the Crem and "spoke" to Dad. I was ok, until I read one of the Christmas cards that had been left in the Chapel of Remembrance. It was to a Beloved Father, and spoke of how the sender may not have seemed appreciative of his / her father, but that they always knew that they could rely on them when they needed support.
That was it. I burst into tears, and God knows how I managed to drive back to the office. I think that someone must have been looking after me on that drive, and when I got back into the office, my colleagues were concerned, as I looked a wreck.
My mascara had run (I wasn't wearing the waterproof mascara that I'd bought for Dad's funeral - brilliant stuff by Bourjois - it's called Plump up the Volume Waterproof in Brun Solis), and my eyes were all red and puffy.
Thankfully, I was left alone, but I'll say one thing for my colleagues - they all made sure I was ok - including my boss, who was worried about me driving home Friday night.
Admittedly, I wasn't going straight home - as Friday was my Godsprog's birthday, I had to make an appearance. But, I will admit, I was really glad that I did make the effort and go.
The look of delight on Amber's face when she saw the space hopper was something that really made me feel a lot brighter. Not to mention the glee with which she took to the space hopper - and started chasing the family cat!
So, I got home and saw that Mum had left me a note as she was working the late shift... We'd ordered a mower back in September.... Only for the company whom we'd ordered it from to say that they couldn't get the mower, and neither could Mountfield themselves!
So, Mum had the money refunded to her, and the note asked if I could go into Stratford to the mower place on Western Road (Simms) to sort one out - she's already reserved it, and all I needed to do was take the payment into them, and sort out the delivery.
Thanks. I was trying to avoid going out at the weekend, as I've done all my Christmas shopping (smug grin). Ok - I've still got to get one thing - my Secret Santa gift.
For those people (un)lucky enough to avoid this ritual, it basically involves everyone in the office writing their name on a piece of paper, and then someone else drawing it out of the bowl and scampering off to celebrate or drown their sorrows - depending on who they managed to get. But, I digress.
Simms was easy to get to, and get parked. The fun came when I had to pull out of Western Road. Those people who know Stratford-Upon-Avon will know the place that I'm talking about - it's just off the main drag up to the Tesco Superstore.
Which means that the only way to get out onto the main road, is take a chance and push your way out. Or, you could always wait for some kind motorist to let you out.
But, at this time of year, they are few and far between, especially when they've realised that Auntie Mavis is comming for pre-christmas drinks, and will only drink Bristol Cream sherry - which is the one drink that isn't kept in the house!
So, it was a case of speak softly - use airhorns - which had I been driving the Toyota, I would have done. But the Peugeot doesn't do too badly - especially not when the horn is followed with verbal abuse and / or appropriate hand gestures!
Once out onto the Birmingham road (the main drag), I tried to get past the hoards heading to Tesco and the Maybird shopping centre (which has a vaiety of stores from B&Q to Next and Halfords.)
For some reason, the great British motorist seems to take offence when they get the impression that someone might be trying to get ahead of them! They were all turning right - all I wanted to do was go straight on! I lost count of the dirty looks that I got, simply because I seemed to be moving through the traffic faster than I should have done.
Ah well, suppose I'd better log off & bog off - I've got to get the rest of my Christmas cards written...
Bah Humbug!
Back later - if I haven't gotten writer's block!
Karen
Do spiders scream when they see a big fat hairy human in the bath?
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