Skip to main content

2023 Retrospective

‘So what,’ asks my son-in-law, Simon, ‘is the first thing you’re going to do in 2024?’ After spending a perfect Christmas, firstly with Lily, Russ and the girls in Cardiff then with Rose, Simon and the children in Keynsham, I’m moaning away again because our house is still on the market and no one who’s viewed it appears to have read the particulars. ‘Make selling the house the second thing on your list,’ Simon continues. ‘Let it run in the background while you get on with something else or it’s going to dominate your life. Think about what you’re going to do first.’

Simon’s got a great knack of coming up with the right advice at the right time and it turns out that his comment does make me think, but more about that later. ‘Well, we’ll carrying on enjoying where we live and continue doing what we always do,’ Tom replies. And, as I look back over 2023, it hasn’t all been dominated by a fruitless attempt to move house. 

Strava tells me I’ve been active for 251 days of the year. Our ebay bargain swimming pool - now into its third year - has been a source of utter joy; those precious moments of peace at the beginning of the day is the most brilliant way to appreciate the changing seasons.


I’ve rediscovered my running mojo - after a period of feeling a bit slow and a bit old - and zipped round the Aberystwyth 10k coming in at 58:40 and my parkrun pace is back where it was. And, of course, there are the many hours of running, chatting and laughing with my dear friend and running buddy Helen.


I hated sewing at school but somehow I found myself making myself some long-sleeve T-shirts and enjoying the process. Well done Tilly and the Buttons for your patterns with easy-to-follow instructions!

This is the year I took on temporary care of my neighbour’s inscrutable tortoise, Storming Norman, and Squidge, a very elderly cat. They both survived! We also acquired grandguinea pigs and a grandkitten.

For personal reasons, I’ve never been interested in tracing my family tree, but when my brother-in-law, an aspiring Viking, turned out not to have a drop of Viking blood, I decided to take a closer look at my DNA… and yes, you guessed, not only 17% Scandinavian but also 35% Welsh.


Yes, there have been some rubbish moments in 2023 - Tom and I could both have done without losing the first week of December to a vomiting bug so severe I actually thought my number was up. And ten days later, Ma could certainly have done without our 5 hour wait in A&E to have a rib injury checked (lots of muscle damage, no broken bones).
Above all, however, Tom and I have made lots of happy memories with our family. We want to move to be physically closer to them, but when I look back through my photos and see so many smiling faces and celebrations, I realise how lucky we already are.

And as for the first thing I’m going to do in 2024? Ah, well, there’s a book I’ve been trying not to write because writing a book is hard work, but the idea won’t go away so it looks as if that’ll keep me busy.

Thank you for reading this blog. I wish you and yours and happy, healthy and peaceful New Year.


Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

My First Book Signing!

It’s a fine, dry day and there’s an Italian market in the square outside Waterstone’s. Good for a book signing? ‘Bad,’ says Tim. The stalls are blocking the view of the shop and the fine weather’s keeping everyone outdoors. Hmm, that must be why they’ve only put one small poster up for my event, I mean why waste the Blu Tack? Tim demonstrates handing off the marauding hordes After much refolding of a black tablecloth and a rummage around for some books, I’m invited to take up my position at the author table somewhere between ‘fantasy and horror’, children’s books and a poster of the next author, Bobby ‘Iron Duke’ Windsor who’s signing on Monday. Once Tom, Lily, my lovely daughter, and her partner, Russ, are all sure I’m not going to run away, they leave me to it, taking it in turns to make sure I’m all right and bring me tea. Very soon, I notice a small boy watching me. When he returns with his family I learn that he would like to be a writer. His method, he tells me, is to rewr...
42 comments
Read more

Since You've Been Gone

Well, Ma Mère, There have been so many times when I’ve gathered up all the little shiny moments I’ve collected during the day, ready to present to you in our evening phone call and then I remember all over again that you’re not there. But, Mum, so much has happened since you’ve gone - maybe you know, maybe you don’t - that I’ve decided to write to you instead.  A few days after you died, we sold our house! After all those months! We even joked about you rattling cages somewhere. At first, nothing happened and then suddenly everything happened at a breathless pace and the next thing I knew I found myself driving (yes, me, driving!) along the M4 to Bridgend and the Time Capsule House, the one you said you and Dad would have bought. I remarked, when we first viewed it that if it was meant for us, it would come to us. Over a year later, when it had been under offer twice, we moved in. Oh, Mum, you and Dad would have loved this house; it’s peak Seventies and the decor - the pampas ensu...
6 comments
Read more

Forever Young

Looking at the blurb for my new Lacura WrinkleStop from Aldi, I see that its active ingredient has been ‘proven to help • Reduce forehead wrinkles by 52% • Reduce crow’s feet by 24% • Restrict 82% of wrinkle muscle activity’ That’s quite a claim, isn’t it? Frankly, after years when my face looked like a lunar landscape thanks to the joys of acne, these days I’m just grateful to see a fairly blemish-free skin. Part of me wants to believe that the wonder cream’s making everything looking a bit smoother and tidier, but, hey, there’s also a lot of ‘aqua’ and ‘glycerin’ in the stuff, too. Besides, I could tamper with my skin as much as I like (and I don’t), but I’ve only got to stand next to my beautiful daughters to see the difference. Ma has wonderful skin, so the chances are there are some helpful genes in the mix, but my dad died far too young of cancer, so it’s not all good news. My dad was a carpenter. ‘You can’t get age from a tin, Miss Chris,’ he’d say when rubbing his hands o...
26 comments
Read more