Aaah! Falalala – fa – la- la -la! Traditionally, and because I am mostly materialistic, I find the level of happiness and eagerness for the Silly Season is directly proportionate to the wads of cash I have in my Visagie wallet.
BUT – this year … I have decided to not be so shallow, mainly because we are really scraping the barrel and, quite frankly, it is quite exhausting being soooo proportionately depressed and morbid all of the waking moments in my day.
Five things that I have decided, or started, to keep the mood afloat….
– The ones I love around me, will be getting homemade gifts, of which have been mostly made during my manic beading stage; my manic crocheting stage and the soon-to-be commencing manic biscuit baking stage. The least I can do, is share what I have an abundance of, and although it is not money, there is a bit talent to spare, I think? As a matter of fact, the festive smell of oranges is wafting through the house as I attempt to make marmalade for the first time – eva, girlfriend! (Even dug the pips out and put them in a baggie-thingie in the pot? Made sure the string wasn’t blue. WTF?)
– I will be inviting my brother, and the lovely Kira, round for at least one of the celebratory meals – because they are so easy to please, eat absolutely everything – including Turkey with a herb, honey and buttered butt. They never complain about the food, what they can and cannot eat, cholestrol, spiciness and smoked mussels. In fact, I get such pleasure out of feeding them, it makes me feel like Gordon F$%king Ramsey. They are also laid back, and we got no backhanded compliments – and there is definitely no rowing out to the centre of the lake of self-pity with them. Yay.
– I will be drinking my tipple of choice very regularly until after the Grinch has stolen the prezzies. I deserve it. So, deal with it, and don’t you dare try to stop me, Prissy Prats.
– I will be visiting the beach more often, starting yesterday. We stay 800m from an array of world-renowned surfing beaches, dude. Plus, it is for free. Plus there is always someone there who is fatter, uglier or whiter than you. And I love to lie and watch the busy little people peeing on the sand, eating the sand, throwing the sand and transporting the sand in their nappies. Also, no news from Franschoek – yet.
– I will look on the bright side, and pray more, and really have faith that everything will be better next year. I know that S and I will continue to be able to earn a living. (Although I will put my foot down at standing on the harbour wall.) I will love the place we stay in and know that we are privileged to be here. My son will continue to do well in all spheres of school life… and we will find a way to keep him where he is now. Afterall, he and his sister are superstars – sharp and street smart; talented and really lovely, likeable people – and they are doing it all themselves… from waterpolo to arranging flowers in an egg. (Luckily, for their – and my sanity – I stopped with the whole helicopter parenting thing a while back. And we all survived. Who knew?) God knows how He got it right with parents like S and I.
Anyway, off to stir the pot (with the soon-to-be marmalade) a bit more.