And so to 2012. A Happy New Year to everyone.
It may seem a little strange.
It may be a little unorthodox.
It may not have been quite what we were expecting.
But our New Year was brought in by a near-naked fire-eating stripper gyrating on top of a grand piano with a vajazzle to preserve the last vestigies of her modesty, and flaming tassles to highlight her well-endowed chest.
We had spent the evening watching, from the "posh seats", La Soiree - contemporary circus that would make the most liberal of us blush. it was more burlesque than Billy Smarts. At the far-end of our row of tables, the younger members of our eighteen-strong party had set the pace by ordering Jager-bombs, whilst we supped more gently on red wine. The event took place at the Roundhouse in Camden. Even the men hadc been most impressed by the 'Singing in the rain' man who could hold himself horizontally on a lamp post whilst his legs 'walked' up an invisible wall to a near vertical position, but probably, on balance favoured the hula hoop girl. For certain The Boy was still dreaming of her the next morning. Honourable mentions to all the other acts too. Camden is an interesting part of the world...I do remember a previous visit and Auntie Gwen being chased down the underground platform by an unknown Irishman asking for her hand in marriage.
On the drive home, many memories were brought to the fore - the new year is always a good time to remember times past. The journey took us past The Boy's old home, and my father's old factory. How times have changed. It's probably forty, maybe forty five years since I'd been near the factory. If he was still alive he'd not recognise the area.
New Year's Eve, marks the beginning of the end of the Christmas season, and it's been so busy that I've not been near the blogosphere for the duration sadly. Christmas Day was as hectic as hectic could be with eighteen people for dinner. It's lovely to have folks from the age of six through to eighty a round, the the busy hustle and bustle reminded me of my own special childhood Christmases, the memory of which I still cherish. Whilst we emjoyed a big Christmas gathering, it was much quieter for Grandma in Cyprus. Many of the ex-pat Brits return to Blighty for the duration, so Grandma and Grandad in Cyprus went out for lunch together. There's more than a twinge of guilt about that, but I hope they know I was thinking about them throughout the day.
It was good to see my brother on the 27th before we retreated to Brighton for that strange, slightly mystical period when time seems to grind to a halt for a few days. We didn't really manage to do anything...not even go on the very, very magical skating rink at Brighton Pavillion, because skating in the rain cannot be a good thing. We did, however, get to enjoy our new bathroom. Actually shower room. the builders finished a day or so before Chritsmas, so the air was still flush with builders dust, but a few days of steamy showers seems to have settled the matter.
We returned in our fastest ever time - one hour twenty three minutes, with practically no other vehicles on the roads. And then readied ourselves for New Year's Eve.
And now I've written his, I'm going to try and catch up with everyone else's adventures over the last two-weeks. I hope everyone has a splendid year ahead.
