Friday, 7 January 2011
"The end, It hurts to set you free" Jim Morrison
Tis is a sad day today for the Hare. A very sad day indeed. I had to say goodbye to a very dear friend last night. He had been with me through all the hard times at the end of 2010 and despite us not knowing each other very long, he became extremely dear to me in a very short space of time. He never judged me or questioned my decisions, never doubted me or let me down. In fact he didn't really say much at all, but he was always there for me, first thing in the morning and last thing at night. He was my rock. The Paul Burrell to my Lady Di. And now he is no more. Well, actually he's in the garden, but only until we work out what to do with him. Yes, last night was Epiphany! The Twelfth Night! So Adios Christmas Tree and thanks for all the good times. The flat seems empty without him but we did erect him in November so I'd forgotten what life was like without him in it. The Wig and I adore Christmas so do try to make it last as long as possible, although on reflection, perhaps 8 weeks is rather too long...
It was quite a close shave though as I almost forgot but I simply can NOT afford to get any more bad luck this year. I shall be requiring a lot of good luck in 2011 in order to move, buy a dog, lose the family double chin and win the lottery. Those things don't just happen on their own. So, I had settled down to a nice hot beverage in front of the shit box, when I remembered the bowl of Quality Street I had left out in case a visitor should pop by (my Grandmother used to do this with Cadbury's Eclairs and since I have the mind of an 83 year old woman I thought I would reintroduce the family tradition with a modern twist). And after all, no trip out for a Root Canal is complete without a chocolate binge when you get home for being so brave. However, it was only when on closer inspection of the bowl, and I saw only Toffee' s left that I knew Christmas must be officially over. The Wig only eats the soft centre's and I only like the Orange Crunch although I can be persuaded by a Milk Choc Bloc if the circumstances are right. We had managed to make our way though 2 tins of the stuff but there was no way in the world I was going to attempt a Toffee in my condition. I probably shouldn't even be in the same room as one. So, Christmas is dead, the Quality Street bowl does not lie and if the good stuff has gone, face it, the party is over.
RIP all the Christmas trees all across the world. Gone but not forgotten.