Now that January 2019 is in full swing I have back-pedalled furiously from last year’s decision of not making any new year resolutions and this year have decided on a cartload of them instead.
I have to face facts. I thrive far better when I have rigid guidelines to follow so I thought I might as well really go for it.
So far, I’ve kicked off with Goal Number One – Dry January – and Goal Number Two, Veganuary.
Easy peasy you may think, for someone who isn’t a big drinker and often eats vegan meals anyway.
Well, first of all, my noble attempts at no alcohol are being thwarted by having loads – and I mean loads – of plonk left over from Christmas (and, no, this was not because we hardly drank anything. If anything, it was because we’d grossly overestimated how much we’d need).
It’s hard when your idea of a blissful evening includes Netflix and a glass of ice, topped up regularly with Almond Baileys.
That stuff is too easy to drink and it’s astonishing how much you can get through before you discover your legs actually don’t work any more. I may have to lodge a complaint.
And then there’s the wonderful Christmas present I received from my friend Alison which I’m itching to try.
It’s a gadget that allows you to filter all the sulphates and nasties from a bottle of wine by pouring it through this contraption. Only, it will sadly have to wait now, at least until February.
Then there’s the whole vegan thing.
Plant-based food is a big favourite of mine and I also love cooking, so how hard can it be?
Well, how was I to know that husband Mike was planning a winter break somewhere hot?
I’ll be lucky if the hotel even knows what a vegan is, let alone caters for one.
When you consider most hotels think vegetarians only eat salad or omelettes, heaven knows what they will think a vegan survives on.
But, looking on the bright side of things, all this means I might actually achieve Goal Number Three – shifting half-a-stone for the summer!
Wake me up when the sales are over, they’re depressing
Does anyone know when the sales officially finish and it’s safe to go back into the shops again? Maybe it’s just me but I hate sales.
They’re so depressing, particularly clothes shops with their crammed rails full of creased tat that didn’t sell the first time.
There you are, wearing your thickest coat and boots, blowing on blue fingers to get some movement back into them, yet the rail in front of you is full of tropical-print beach stuff, see-through cotton and little strappy neon things you didn’t want when you first saw them.
It’s doubly annoying when the jumper you blew a week’s wages on days before is now half-price… or less. Back to rip-off prices, but something new to inspire me please.
Hey man, Christmas was just purrrrfect. Peace and love...
Momoko, our daughter’s kitten, has gone home after his Christmas visit. After being so worried, it was wonderful having him and we miss him.
Milly, our dog, was surprisingly good about having a real C.A.T. under her roof. This was partly because I bought a Feliway plug-in for Momoko on a vet’s advice. It emitted cat pheromones to make him feel instantly at home. We were sceptical, but it worked. We also got Adaptil, the dog version, to help Milly, resulting in them both wandering about in a state of chilled-out zen. So all was well.
But our daughter’s boyfriend now says Momoko is being a devil and blames it on ‘coming down off cat drugs’.