Wednesday 12th January 2022

Dear Diary,

Thought I’d jog in and open a new page for 2022. I wonder what covid variants this year holds for the world? Not so much Happy New Year as Miserable New Variant. And there it is already - a breaking of my resolution to be more positive and less sour and snippy. Oh well, New Year Resolutions are made for breaking, or at least watering down, and possible pretending you never made them in the first place. Stupid things. Every year’s the same. We make promises we can’t possible keep, not without having a complete personality change. We are who we are, warts and all. Not that I have warts. I am unblemished in the wart department. Dick claims he had a wart when he was a kid and his nanny cured it by rubbing a rasher of streaky bacon over it and then burying said bacon in the garden. Dick’s mother confirmed the story, but also confirmed that nanny was a loony and the wart was in fact cured by a swift visit to a posh private doctor who dispatched it using liquid nitrogen.

Christmas? Let’s not go there. It wasn’t the best. In fact it was horrible. To be honest, I didn’t help matters. Shane often says that nothing I do can surprise him, but I think I caught him off guard prior to Christmas, and Dick too. I had an epic melt down. It surprised me never mind them. It was a shocker, and a Christmas tree triggered it. I won’t moan on about it here, because I know some of you had far worse Christmases. Maybe I’ll stick it in my little book of bits and bobs when I get around to it.

Anyway, just a brief visit today. Many thanks for all recent emails. Your kind thoughts are appreciated. Take care, Peeps. I wish you all the very best in the coming year.

 

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