Friday, January 6
The January Bleurgh
I claim to love all the seasons. I lied. I bloomin' hate Winter. OK, the twinkliness and love at Christmas is nice but I get completely overwhelmed with the consumerism every year. And now, it's January. It has rained for about three weeks. It is so dark when I get woken up up ridiculous o'clock, and it's still dark when I've been up for about an hour and a half. The house is cold and draughty. We have water leaking through roofs and running down walls. I am a bit fat. I look ever so tired. And I'm very miserable.
I have an actual biological need to be outside every day or I go a bit stir crazy. I also can't go for more than a few weeks without going to the beach. My body cries out for water and fruit and veg. I seem to have forgotten all of this and have become someone who drinks coffee, eats white bread, has a Jaffa Cake habit and a dog that's missed a fair few walks recently. This needs sorting. I have written out my manifesto and will read it each morning (while I'm drinking my freshly squeezed apple, carrot and ginger juice and doing a salute to the sun, of course).
And I've also got to embrace January and February, and look forward to early nights, winter beach walks with hot chocolate, soup season, getting under blankets for stories with my favourite girls, sharing winter ales in front of the fire with the mister, lighting candles and fairy lights. I'm going to stock up on some new novels, read ones that have been on my shelf for ages, get some TV series on DVD (any recommendations?), reinstate Cheese and Scrabble Sundays, sneak in some cinema trips, book some theatre outings, plan camping weekends for summer, do more blogging and work on The List.
And Moll noticed today that our daffodils are just starting to peek out from under their blanket of compost, so Spring surely can't be all that far away?